The Terminators: Army of Legend - Volume III: Dawn of War
by Sir Areis Lionheart
Summary: The LKA is vanquished and the Terminator Militia, an army unlike any you can imagine, has reached a new era of peace...or have they? In the blink of an eye, they find themselves at war with those they swore to protect, and the Second American Civil War begins...Rated M: For Strong Language, War Violence, and Sexual Content. DISCLAIMER: NOT ABOUT THE ROBOTIC TERMINATORS!
1. Prologue: Emergence

_**Prologue**_**:**

**-''Emergence''-**

**-Beneath Cartoon City, Montana-**

**-**_**09 July 2007**_**-**

**-**_**0840 Hours**_**-**

Great Commander Alex Vaughn was awakened by swift banging on the bulkhead door leading out of his room and to the hall just outside. He groaned, sitting up in bed, looking outside the window of his room. Light was shining down through the waves of the lake he was residing beneath, casting the room in a sapphire hue as fish swam past him. He checked the clock by his bedside, almost 0900 hours...9 o'clock in the morning. The banging sounded again, and Alex, with a swear beneath his breath, climbed out of bed, stumbling towards the door, unbolting it and opening it.

Crash stood outside, the orange, bipedal bandicoot grinning widely, "Guess what Alex, got good news."

"What's going on?" the Commander asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

"Just got a call from Elliot, the flood waters have finally receded, city looks like a mess, but hey, we can finally get out of this hellhole and back to the surface, aren't you excited?"

"Real excited," he replied with a yawn.

"C'mon, the rest of Alpha's holed up in the cafeteria down the hall, we'll be waiting for you."

"Roger that," and he watched Crash take off down the hall before closing the door, rotating on his heels. His room was rather barren, with blue carpeting, blank, white walls, a television which sat upon a dresser, an Xbox 360, a small kitchen nook, and his queen-sized bed. As he dressed himself in his casual attire, he walked to the window seat directly across from the door, glancing towards the sea floor below. He had started to enjoy living here, and although he was unhappy that they could finally head back to the surface, he did not doubt that, someday at least, they'd need to come back here.

Fully dressed, he brushed his teeth, relieved himself, then headed outside his room, locking it behind him as he shoved his way down the cramped, sterile white halls. From one end of the hall to the next, there were people, families, stuffed, funneling towards the one and only access back to the surface. For months, they had been stuck in a bomb shelter beneath the lake just north of Cartoon City, just north of Club Camelot, the exclusive, Victorian-style mansion housing the military club within which Alpha Company normally lived, after a violent storm and vicious flood waters had driven them below ground. It was a good thing that the majority of the Quads were created in a middle-eastern flair, the buildings composed out of adobe, they were very resistant to shelling from enemy forces, and the young Commander highly doubted that a little storm could bring the entire city to its knees.s

It seemed to take an hour before he finally reached the open cafeteria the equivalent of a city block away from his particular apartment, and he noticed that all the shops were shut down, seemed the workers weren't even willing to set up shop one final time and were eager to leave the subterranean, sprawling complex the city's inhabitants had been driven into. The entire area reeked of sweat and body odor, mixed with stale food, and the temperature from all the bodies in one condensed area was extreme. He found the rest of Alpha Company huddled in a small corner of the cafeteria.

"So we're finally heading back up, huh?"

"Yup, I'm so excited!" Cheet, a young, male cheetah cub, replied excitedly, hopping around, barely able to contain his excitement.

"Damn, gonna miss this place."

"Well, you can stay down here if you want," Crash replied, and the others of Alpha Company nodded in agreement, "I for one, am very happy we're finally getting out of here. It was cool at first, but there's practically nothing to do down here, and it's pretty much the same shit we do when we're on the surface, only with a noticeable absence of sunlight...artificial sunlight not counted."

"This place will quickly become a ghost town once people starting heading back upstairs, I'll be damned if I'm gonna be down here, in this massive complex, all by myself."

"What's wrong? Afraid of the dark and emptiness?"

"Place may be haunted," and he shrugged, grinning widely, "You never know."

"Yeah, but the golden question, how will we even get _back _to the surface, you see how packed this place is? It'll take us hours just to get to the next nexus."

"Hopefully traffic starts flowing as more and more people leave...how far are we from the subway access lobby?"

"About a mile maybe just shy," Crash replied with a sigh, "We better get moving, we'll be lucky if we'll get out of here by nightfall at the rate of congestion we're having to deal with."

As it turned out, it wasn't _quite _as bad as Crash had predicted, but they were still shoving their way through the mass of people for a good three hours before they finally reached the massive, wide, open lobby, where they were finally allowed some freedom to move around. Fifty feet up, the gilded arches were illuminated with a half dozen massive, crystal chandeliers, and the lines at the subway terminals heading into the railcar tunnels that snaked beneath Cartoon City were not as bad as originally thought. After another hour of waiting, they were squeezed into one of the trains, packed to the point that there wasn't any room to move or sit, almost literally wall-to-wall, and Alex only hoped that no one on board got sick from the incredible, 200+ MPH speeds that the rail cars were known for flying beyond.

After only ten to twenty minutes inside of the rail car, it finally came to a stop at a junction, emptying its load before quickly speeding off, heading back towards the underground complex they had been residing in. As they walked across the the platform, heading up several flights of stairs, they emerged onto the still damp streets of Cartoon City's Town Square, still a couple of miles out from the road heading into the military district of the city, where Club Camelot resided. They flagged one of the many buses operating, climbed on and were soon deposited on the asphalt road running parallel along Club Camelot's right-hand side. They crossed the street, finding shelter beneath the palm trees, still appearing healthy, following the newly-paved asphalt road running parallel to the military club's front, following the ten foot tall, three foot-thick stone walls, and to the large, beautifully crafted, wrought-iron gate heading into the compound, wide open.

They stepped through the walls, finding themselves on the paved brick path that headed to the marble stairs at the base of the double doors opening into Club Camelot's lobby. At the midpoint of the break path between the gates and the stairs, the path branched into two separate paths that circled around a triple basin, stone fountain, with a statue depicting an attacking western dragon crafted from obsidian fixed atop it, its open mouth spewing the water that filled the fountain, before converging again to finish the approach to the club. The brick path was lined with beautiful oak benches and hedgerows, unkempt after months of neglect. Hedgerows dotted the large lawn of the club within its walls. The building itself was a deep purple, modeled after the Victorian-style mansions of old, ten stories tall. However, heading inside revealed the building's secret. The lobby dominated most of the building, reaching all the way to the exposed rafters of the rooftop, with wood flooring and oak paneling. A brilliant red, indoor rollercoaster took up most of the room, fixed atop a dip in the floor, surrounded by stone, knee-high fencing and hedgerows, enclosing a pool. There were several restaurants and bar storefronts along the perimeter of the lobby, except for the immediate left of the door, which opened out into an enclosed, artificial forest, where the dragons of visiting dragonriders were known to rest at.

At the far end of the lobby, near the upper right-hand corner facing inside was a hall leading to the rotunda of the military club, ten stories tall, housing the rooms of the club's residents. Usually temporary, like a hotel, except for Alpha Company. One floor beneath ground level marked the floor of the rotunda, with cream-colored ceramic tiling and several more recreational storefronts, a pool hall, a concert hall, a spa and an arcade, and a training grounds. Alex led Alpha Company to the opposite end of the rotunda, calling the glass elevator, with supporting beams painted gold. It opened up, allowing them entry, and Alex placed a key he wore around his neck into a special slot at the top of the car, turning the key to the left and pressing a usually-locked button, taking them up to the top floor, just beneath the glass dome...the penthouse floor.

The dome depicted a dragon attacking a castle and its surrounding village, the glass stained yellow to depict twilight, and was illuminated 24/7 by directional lights hidden in a trench at the base of the dome. Upon emerging onto the penthouse floor, the permanent living quarters for Alpha Company, and Alpha Company alone, and a temporary living quarters for any special guests or VIPs, they stepped out, overjoyed to be home again. The penthouse floor consisted of five suites, Suite 1 was the largest, holding over thirty different rooms and even built out over the lawn, as were all suites, constantly expanding as more and more members joined. Four halls set in each of the cardinal directions led to public balconies, and each suite had its own private balcony, except for Suite 1, in which all rooms facing out had private balconies. The hall facing west opened into a large deck, holding a mini bar, a pool, and a hot tub, as well as a concert stage and an outdoor entertainment system. Between the hall and Suite 1 was a private observatory, usually locked. As they entered the modest living room of Suite 1, each member of Alpha Company was overjoyed to finally be back home, heading to their respective rooms to unpack the minimal belongings they had brought with them when the storm threatened to drive everyone below ground.

Alex immediately made his way to his private, covered balcony, overlooking the northern half of the city and stretching out into the pastures to the north of the city. Ahead and to the left of his view of the city lay the massive lake they had been living beneath, and from this height, he could just barely make out the small island, called Teardrop Isle in honor of the small island of the same name that was positioned to the northeast of Martaan, the home of the dragons and one of their greatest assets. Teardrop Isle here in Cartoon City was an entirely forested, island and nature preserve, and he could just barely make out the highest point of the _Flight of the Phoenix_, a steel rollercoaster that encircled the theme park located in the direct center of the island.

_Home, sweet home... _Alex thought to himself with a sigh, _I forgot how wonderful it was to be back here..._

He smiled widely as the cool air blew across his face before finally returning into his room, closing the screen door, but leaving the sliding glass door open, enjoying the sounds of the nature as he unpacked and cleaned up.


	2. Chapter I: The Flood

_**Chapter I**_**:**

**-''The Flood''-**

**-Above Connorsville, Illinois-**

**-**_**19 August 2008**_**: One Year Later..**_**.**_**-**

**-**_**1943 Hours**_**-**

The cloudless, clear blue skies above the moderately-sized city of Connorsville, Illinois were rapidly darkening as an aircraft, a heavily armored transport, equipped with dual miniguns beneath the cockpit, a bomb bay below, and outfitted with twin harrier engines, flew low over the city. Inside of the machine were a small group of talking animals, scarred from battle, and well-experienced in warfare, mixed within a group of low-ranking soldiers. Sitting beside them, was their commander, a boy, fourteen years of age, almost fifteen, average height and build, with cold blue eyes, long, dark brown hair reaching down to his shoulders, deeply battlescarred, especially along the right side of his face which was suffering from burn scars, now mostly healed. He was clad in a uniform vaguely reminiscent of the black officer uniforms of Nazi Germany, only the swastika armband had been replaced with a bright red armband, with only a black, script eagle fixed upon it, the first ever flag of the boy's army, known as the Terminator Militia. The boy and the sentient animals riding with him were known as Alpha Company, the most elite of the Terminator Militia, and also the highest ranking unit in the militia. Was really set them apart from their comrades, was they all had incredible, almost 'magical' abilities, granted to them by a mutation serum that they had been injected with.

Because of their mutations, something only they had and no one else, they were referred to as the 'Mutant Division of the Terminator Militia', and maintained an almost mythical status in the eyes of their sprawling army, still growing at an exponential rate, as well as the civilians whom they swore to protect. The boy, named Alex Vaughn, held the rank of 'Great Commander', one of the ranks, the highest one actually, exclusive to the Terminators and the Terminators alone. Currently, Alex had a window seat in the machine, and he was looking out towards the rapidly darkening city beneath him, remembering the days when his family once lived here. He was a very experienced soldier, despite his young age, having been kidnapped from a loving family at the young age of three, conscripted into a force known as the Tan Army as a child soldier, which had been waging a deadly war with a rival force referred to as the Green Army. Although the war splitting the two factions apart had long-ended, and both factions had been subsequently wiped out by the first antagonistic force against the Terminator Militia, humorously named the 'Little Kid Army', or LKA for short, the scars of his lifetime of experiences still haunted him. After the destruction of the two factions, having by then forged a truce and fused to become known as the 'Green/Tan Collective', or GTC, Alex and the army he had founded, now independent of the GTC, still fought and served.

"Lemme tell ya," Piermont, one of the members of Alpha Company, and the 'High Command'-the commanding unit of both Alpha Company and the entire Terminator Militia-began, "The U.N.S.C's got some seriously cool shit. I'm glad Max on Swizzle Firma hooked us up with 'em. These...what are they called..?"

"Hornets," Alex replied in an offhand, distracted manner.

"Yeah, these Hornets are a hundred times better than those damn choppers we've been riding on. Kinda wish we could have met 'em sooner."

Alex only shrugged.

Piermont, in his natural form, was of a race of dragons known as the 'Martaanean Forest Dragons', hailing from the island of Martaan located within the Caribbean Sea. The forest dragons were about nine to ten feet tall from paw to the top of their horned heads, and proportionately long. Their scales were of a deep emerald or jade, with their softer belly scales being a pale yellow or tan color. The males had short, curved-back, ribbed, ivory horns on the top of their heads, in contrast to the stubs that the females had. Their eyes were also of a deep emerald in color, almost cat-like in nature, and their spines were the same color as their horns and ivory talons, which colors also matched those of their wing membranes. However, Piermont, also known as 'Pierre' by his familiars, was currently in his commonly-used 'human' form, depicted as a Caucasian male, of average height and build, with curly, greased-back black hair, piercing emerald eyes (as his eye color did not change with his forms) hiding behind black sunglasses. He was clad in a black, studded, leather jacket, unzipped to reveal a clean white undershirt beneath, with black slacks, a studded belt, and combat boots.

Despite the fact that he was the same age, to the very second, as Alex, his bonded rider, he was almost always seen with a Marlboro Red stuck in the corner of his mouth, at least while he was in his human form.

Attempting to break the silence that held thick and steadfast in the body of the Hornet they were traveling, Piermont asked, "Wonder what Elliot wants us here for?"

"Who knows, Piermont," Rudolph replied. He, the dragon, and Alex were the only representatives of the predominantly animalian Alpha Company present, the rest of Alpha Company currently resided in the Terminator capital of Cartoon City, one of the composite 'Montana Quads', a group of four sister cities located a few miles south of the American/Canadian border. Rudolph, as his name suggested, was, in fact, the red-nosed reindeer and infamous Christmas icon, the most recent member of Alpha Company, and Alex's current protege.

Four-Star General Robert Elias Elliot was one of the oldest members of the Terminator Militia, having been convinced out of retirement to join the fledgling Terminators shortly after their independence from the GTC, to act as the case manager and governmental handler of the then-inexperienced Alpha Company. The general was short, stocky, with a bulldog face, usually as red as a beet, and an alcoholic's nose, almost always seen with a Cuban cigar in his mouth, and an infamous short-fuse to match his explosive temper. Despite the fact that he was a general of Gamma Company, two units beneath Alpha, and, according to the Terminators' exclusive structure, below even an Alpha Company (or Beta Company) private in terms of rank, he was still very much admired by the entire militia, and his experience was treasured. He was a veteran of the Persian Gulf War, descending from a long line of military families.

The silence inside of the Hornet was permeating and persisting, and Piermont groaned, "Alright, seriously guys?"

"What?" Rudolph asked.

"Nobody here has _anything _to talk about? At all?"

"Hell you expect us to talk about?" Alex asked, "The weather? Since we conquered the LKA, practically nothing worth discussing has gone on."

"Yeah...but I mean...c'mon! Why do you think Elliot dragged our asses all the way out here. He _could _have just briefed us back in Cartoon City's command center."

"I stopped trying to figure Elliot out shortly after he joined the Terminators," Alex replied with a sigh, "He does his own thing, and just takes us along for the ride."

"So this isn't in the _least _bit suspicious to you then?"

"Negative."

"Well, _I've _got a bad feeling about this. Something don't seem right here."

"Keep it to yourself," Alex replied, "Can't we just enjoy the peace and quiet while we still can? If Elliot called us to a briefing, then that means something's come up, so let us enjoy the peace and quiet _before _the shit hits the fan, okay?" and the Commander fell silent again, turning his attention back to the window outside.

"You think the LKA's actin' up?"

"Haven't seen an eye or the ear of the LKA since we trumped their asses back in Sinnoh."

Suddenly, their pilot knocked on the wall beside him, "We're approximately two minutes out from our Site Charlie-Bravo, everyone ready?"

"Ready as we'll ever be," Alex replied, picking up his AK47, which had been leaning against the bench, and slinging it around his shoulder.

The Hornet landed on the helipad of Site Charlie-Bravo, an asphalt platform in the middle of Lake Vermilion, near the heart of Connorsville and stretching from one end of the city to the other. Site Charlie-Bravo was set beneath the man-made lake, near the bottom of the former strip mine that used to be where the lake was now. As their pilot killed the Hornet's engines, Elliot himself opened the doors to the Hornet, stepping out of the way to allow the machine's passengers to dismount. He saluted towards the three attending members of Alpha Company, who returned it. One of the two privates accompanying Elliot nervously said, holding out his hand for Alex to shake, "Welcome to Site Charlie-Bravo, sir."

Elliot abruptly smacked the private across the face, "You idiot! The _least _you could do is show some respect to Commander Vaughn!"

The private gasped, in shock, "You mean, _THE _Great Commander Alex Vaughn?"

"No shit, Sherlock!" Elliot growled.

Alex chuckled, "At ease, General."

Elliot only growled and grumbled something beneath his breath, rotating on his heels and stepping towards the elevator leading down to the bottom of the lake. As he smacked the button, calling the car, he turned to face Alex again, "Follow me."

Alex, nodding towards his companions, walked across the warm, breezy tarmac, accompanied only by the sound of crickets and the rolling of the waves and the distant city. As they stood beside Elliot, Alex got a chance to observe the city of Connorsville. By now, night had completely fallen, and the helipad was lit up in a deep red hue by lights set around the platform's perimeter. The water of the lake was black and shining, reflecting the lights of the distant city.

Once the elevator car finally arrived with a ding, and the steel door slid open to allow them entry, they all piled into the cargo elevator, Elliot smacking the down button with his elbow, crossing his arms in front of him. The door snapped shut, and the elevator began its descent into the bowels of the facility. Like outside, the car was illuminated in a brilliant ruby-red hue, and once they had gone down a fifth of the way, the walls of the shaft before them opened up to reveal a full, panoramic view of the pitch-black lake. "Bulletproof glass," Elliot replied, talking to Alex and the rest of the High Command. Alex only nodded with a 'not-bad' expression.

When the elevator car got four-fifths of the way down, the view once more became that of the cold steel of the elevator shaft, and within another second, the car reached the end of its journey, and the door slipped open with a chime, allowing them passage into the foyer of the facility. The facility was surprisingly dark, illuminated only by white lights set around inside of water-filled trenches hugging the walls, diving an inch or two into the clean, cream-colored ceramic tiles throughout the facility, shining up the wall. The facility was actually very labyrinthine, the foyer probably being the largest part, only about fifty to a hundred feet long, and half that wide. At the end of the foyer, where it met a T-junction leading to the halls snaking throughout the facility, was a sturdy, stained oak desk, broken only by two metal detectors. They passed through them, turning left down the branch. To either side of the hall were darkened office windows, empty for the night, but the facility itself was busy, the halls were mostly full. Rudolph elbowed his mentor, whispering, "Kinda funny actually..."

"What is?" Alex whispered back.

"Base entirely underwater."

"You'd be surprised by what kind of protection that offers, plus it's out of the way."

"Guess so...wonder what this whole meeting is about."

"Who knows, it's Elliot, we won't find out until the meeting actually happens."

"What was that, Commander?" the general, who was leading them throughout the labyrinthine facility, called back, voice firm and annoyed, not looking back towards them, or breaking his brisk walk.

"Uh...nothing, General."

Irritated, Elliot replied, "Damn well better be."

After several moments of silence, Rudolph whispered again, "Anyway, wonder why that guy didn't recognize you. You're the founder of this army, you'd think everyone would know your face and name."

"Rudy, few people outside of Cartoon City know me directly by name and face. Alpha Company tends

to be a bit isolated from the rest of the militia. Yeah they know about Alpha Company and the High Command, yeah we're legends to the whole army, and yeah they know that the army was founded and is lead by a young boy named Alex Vaughn, holding the rank of Great Commander, but few have actually met me...or anyone in Alpha Company for that matter, in person."

"Huh...guess it makes sense..."

Piermont interrupted then, saying in an offhand manner, "Yeah, Alpha Company are like gods in the eyes of the Terminator Militia and the United States. Hell, like anyone's surprised anyway? Since Alex here founded us back in '97, we've been nothing since protectors for the US, and a sort of secret weapon if something happens on American soil."

Rudolph said sheepishly, "Yeah...been here for three years but...haven't quite gotten around to looking up your guys' history..."

Piermont smirked, his voice adopted an arrogant tone, "Heh. Let me put it in layman's terms for ya. On September 11, 1996, Alex's third birthday, one of the final battles of the Green/Tan war...yeah, you heard right, the little plastic army guys only lifesized instead of fuckin' miscroscopic...only this was the real deal. Few of the Green/Tan soldiers were the little plastic guys from the TV shows and toy aisle. Sure some were, but they had been implementing other people. Well, on Alex's third birthday, one of the final battles in the war made their way to his hometown of Connorsville, Illinois, and he and his mom, they were at the park at the time, were caught in the crossfire. His mom was knocked out by

a mortar, same with Alex, and he was taken by the Tan commander, and raised to be a soldier."

Alex sighed, "Why are we going over my life story, Pierre?"

Piermont grinned mischievously, "Cause the greenhorn dunno what in the hell he's got himself caught up in. Anyway, as I was sayin', Plastro-Commander of the Tans-had a way of controlling his army using certain chemicals in their food and water supply, also part of their training. He effectively made them mindless zombies to do his will without question or doubt. Alex here was resistant to a lot of that bullshit, and as a way of keeping him in line, promoted him to be his second-in-command, Brigadier General Alex Vaughn..."

Now annoyed, Alex scowled, "Piermont..."

Ignoring the Commander, Piermont continued, "Then Alex had a dream about a potion that could make him a goddamn beast. A true blue super soldier, and upon his awakening, gathered a whole crapton of random-ass chemicals, putting them together and blindly drinking the damn thing on impulse. Next thing we know, he had all kinds of incredible superpowers, and the mutation serum, the very thing that sets Alpha Company apart from everyone else, was born."

"Pierre, is this really necessary? This can wait you know."

Piermont's voice adopted a tone of amusement at his rider's irritation, "Fuck you, I'm still talking, don't interrupt storytime."

Alex only sighed in frustration, submitting. Whenever Piermont was on one of his tangents, there was no stopping him.

"Anyway, fast forward 'bout a year, the Green/Tan war is over, both armies united, and they send Alex out on an alliance mission to Africa, since they were looking for more soldiers to expand their now unified force. A trip through the Savannah, and Alex stumbled upon his first two members of the Terminators..."

Elliot snapped then, growling, "Hey Piermont, shut up already, now's not the time."

Piermont raised his hands in surrender, "Fine! Fine...sheesh...friggin' killjoy."

"Pierre! Cut the chatter!"

"Alright! Alright! I'm done, sheesh."

A minute or two later, they reached the end of the hall, where two guards were standing in front of a set of closed double doors. They stepped aside, opening the doors and allowing the group into large, open, circular, blue-tinted briefing room. Similar in appearance to the conference room in Cartoon City's command center, the floor was covered in blue carpet, with chairs and tables situated around the sunken-in center of the room, where, currently, a spinning, holographic globe was projected. Around the perimeter of the room was a wide array of computer terminals and databases.

Elliot walked up to the front of the room, standing before a large, wall-wide window that overlooked the lake. He depressed a button on a remote control laying on the table upon which his laptop sat, already hooked up to the projector, and with a mechanical whine, a metal blast door closed over the windows of the room. Once the window was closed, Elliot tapped rapidly at his laptop, and the globe flickered out, soon turning to a satellite image of the southern United States.

"Alright...hit the lights," he ordered, and the lights dimmed, "This is what I called you

all about. We have ourselves a bit of a situation in the South..."

Impatient, Alex snapped, "Get to the point, Elliot, we don't have all night. I'm supposed to be on the training field in Cartoon City first thing tomorrow morning to train the rookies, Rudy included."

Elliot growled in irritation, "Fine then. Long story short, we've had attacks going on all across the country, concentrated specifically in the more Conservative areas of the United States, places like Kentucky and Tennessee. The problem is that overnight, entire towns are being razed to the ground, their populations slaughtered, by daylight, no trace of the attackers remain...but this is what worries me...the methods used to interrogate and murder the citizens are reminiscent of old, outdated, and declassified methods we used to use a long time ago, like pre-2000. Since our methods were based on those of the Tans, and thus a combination of those of Nazi Germany and the Viet Cong, I'm sure

you can see the issue..."

Alex, voice grim, replied, "Officials are putting the blame on us."

"Precisely...even though we aren't involved. Unfortunately, they're gathering supposed evidence that links the High Command and Alpha Company directly to the crimes. Good news is that most of the country is doubtful that we're involved...however, Christ knows how long those doubts will last. These attacks have been going on consistently for about two or three months now, and that's what has me worried. How long, how many more attacks, until people start to truly think we're involved."

Suddenly the earth quaked mildly, and there was a low rumble. The lights flickered briefly, and inaudible whispers began to break out from the crowd.

Elliot interrupted them, "Don't worry about it, just a mild earthquake, we get them a lot, especially recently, apparently we're sitting right on a damn fault line that's remained inactive until just recently. Settle down! Anyway, we don't know whose committing these acts, but we need to..."

But he was interrupted by another earthquake, this one more violent and slightly longer than the last.

Now sounding hesitant, even distracted and reluctant, Elliot continued, voice slowly gaining strength the more he went on, "We need to...we need to...We need to figure out who's behind this and put a stop to it before the shit _REALLY_ hits the fan. Normally, I wouldn't get involved in these domestic affairs unless directly consulted by the National Guard or any other..."

And muffled explosions, accompanied by more rumbles, interrupted him. This time, people in the room had begun to stand up, their fight or flight responses kicking in.

Alarmed, Elliot demanded, "What the hell is going on...?"

Suddenly, the door to the conference room burst open, and they saw a private, the same one who had failed to identify the Commander, rush into the room, standing in the doorway and out of breath. In a panic-edged voice, he managed, "Sir! Sir! We have an emergency!"

"The hell is going on out there, Private?"

"We're under attack!" and the private rotated on his heels, swiftly shutting and bolting the door, pounding on it to inform the guards it was secure.

"_WHAT_!? By who?"

"I don't know, sir! LKA maybe!" and he ran up to Elliot, standing beside him, facing him.

"LKA? Christ!" and Elliot rotated to face the Commander, sitting at the front of the crowd, pointing an accusing finger at him, "ALEX! Get my computer and get back to the helipad, we're getting the hell outta dodge!"

"And we're just gonna let the LKA take over this base? To hell with that idea!" Alex replied.

"God dammit, Vaughn! I don't give two shits that you hold rank over me, being all high and mighty Alpha Company compared to lowly Gamma Company, but for Chrissakes, did you even come prepared for a goddamn attack?"

His voice still on edge, but calming, Alex replied, "I came armed...but not enough to fend off an entire invasion force."

"Exactly! Get your ass to the helipad, we're getting out of here."

Outside the door to the briefing room, they could hear muffled screams and gunshots. After that, they heard footsteps running up to the door, someone pounded heavily on it, attempting to get it open.

"SHIT! Get your ass moving VAUGHN!" Elliot roared, rotating on his heels and racing towards another door on the other end of the room, the rest of the room's occupants following hot on his heels.

Piermont stopped in the doorway, calling back, "C'mon guys! Let's get out of here!" before he, too, vanished through it.

Rudolph, in alarm, shot out of his seat, tripping over his feet and falling to the ground as he quickly picked himself up and began to stumble after them, "Piermont! Elliot! Wait up!" and he stood in the doorway, waiting for his mentor.

Picking up Elliot's laptop, Alex called, "Settle down, Rudy, they ain't gonna stop. Stick with me and we'll get out of this."

Rudolph sidestepped out of the way, allowing Alex through before he left the room, closing the door behind them, "If you say so, Alex...I'm right behind you."

They found themselves in a dimly lit hallway. The power had gone off, and the emergency lights had flickered on. Soldiers were standing around, panicking or guarding the door leading into the conference room, waiting for the enemy soldiers to storm through.

They finally reached the end of the hallway, throwing open a door and finding themselves on a catwalk going above and across a large atrium. Beneath them, the enemy soldiers, clad entirely in black, gunned down any friendly forces in their way, advancing swiftly through the base.

"I don't like the look of this," Rudolph replied uneasily.

"Stay quiet, don't engage them."

"What's going on?" Rudolph asked him, "I don't like this at all..."

"Neither do I, Rudy, but the only thing we can do is just keep moving...we'll worry about fighting these guys later, right now, we're ill-equipped."

As they entered the next corridor, they heard voices fast approaching, and acting on the fly, Alex pried off the lid of a ground-level air-duct in the wall, crawling into it. Rudolph joined him, and he replaced the grate as good as he could, unknowingly holding his breath as a large group of those black-armored soldiers rushed past him. Once they had left, Alex turned to face his worried protege, motioning him to stay quiet as they crept through the ducts as quietly as they could. After several minutes, they found the exit to the duct, a maintenance catwalk that encircled the mess hall, now entirely overrun with the enemy soldiers. They emerged from the grate, following it around the perimeter of the kitchen, where they ran into a dead end.

Realizing that the only way they could advance was to fight their way out, Alex kicked down a nearby ladder which clattered to the floor of the kitchen, instantly attracting attention from the patrolling soldiers in the next room, Quickly sliding down the ladder, Rudolph right behind him, Alex rolled into cover behind one of the kitchen's islands counters, peeking out only to fire upon the approaching soldiers.

"I found the Commander!" one of them called, "Over here!"

"You ready to run?" Alex asked, turning to face his protege.

"What?"

We need to move up to the next piece of cover over there, see it?" and Alex swiftly moved to the other side of the island, peeking out to nod towards another island nearby. Hearing running footsteps, he turned around, getting between his protege and their assailant as he gunned down two more of the armor-clad soldiers, realizing they were outfitted in full body suits. "Go!" Alex ordered, running out of cover, strafing across the floor the the next counter, firing his AK47 in short bursts more to deter the soldiers than take any down. They took cover in the other doorway leading out into the mess hall, crouching low as they moved forward, using the serving table for cover against an enemy HMG-heavy machine gun-emplacement.

"Shit..." Alex breathed, "They got M240s covering the area, "We need to outrun 'em if we hope to survive."

"What!?"

"Ready to experience the magic of being a mutant?"

"You're not telling me that we're gonna..."

"Oh yeah," and he roared, "URA!" as he dove from cover, taking the M240 head on and somehow managing to eliminate the gunner before it could hit him.

"M240 down! C'mon, Rudy! We need to keep moving!"

They left the mess hall into another corridor, taking on various pockets of enemy soldiers in their advance to the elevator that would take them to the surface. As they shot their way through the barracks, the world quaked once again, and the emergency lights flickered out. Now blind, Alex blinked, activating the night vision that he, and all mutants, possessed. Retreating into his mind, the Commander utilized another gift given to him by the mutation serum, finding and identifying Rudolph's mental presence, then relaying to him telepathically, _Activate your night vision, we might be able to flank or even avoid these guys._

_Roger... _Rudolph replied uneasily, and they quietly maneuvered throughout the empty quarters, pausing against the doorway heading out into another hall as a squad of enemy soldiers, armed with flashlights mounted on their assault rifles, moved past them, searching for any sign of the escaped Terminators.

"Wait for them to pass," Alex sighed, "Don't say anything..."

Once they had rounded a corner, Alex nodded toward his protege and they both slipped outside, running along the barren, bloody halls, littered with debris and bodies, water pouring from holes in the ceiling, like something out of a horror film. Suddenly, with another dangerous and frightening earth quake, the floor buckled and cracked beneath them, sinking it as they fell into a maintenance shaft running beneath the base. The shaft was severely flooded, almost waist-high, and the water was rising even higher, alarmingly quick. They could see the beams of at least a dozen flashlights zipping around above them, and realizing that there was no way back up, at least right now, Alex and Rudolph took off, following the dark corridor, moving aside whatever flotsam they found floating in the murky, ice-cold water to get through. The floor above them collapsed, and Rudolph screamed in alarm as a corpse fell into the water beside him.

"Shh!" Alex hissed, "Stay quiet!"

They continued wading their way through the maintenance shaft, struggling to find a way their way back to the elevator, hoping it was still operational...or at least hoping to find an additional method to get back to the surface. Suddenly, Alex heard a distant rumbling and groaning sound, as if something metallic had snapped, and he heard a sound, almost like that of a waterfall. He stopped in place, Rudolph turning to face him and asking, "What'd we stop for?"

"Shhh..." Alex whispered.

"What? What's going on?"

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what? I don't hear anything!"

"Shut up for a moment!" that sound like a waterfall grew closer, and Alex said, voice grave, "Oh no..."

"What!? What!? Tell me! What's going on!?" suddenly, Rudolph, who was in front of Alex, facing towards him stepped back, and his eyes widened, "What's that!?"

Alex turned to face where Rudolph was staring, his own eyes widening as he saw a massive wall of water rushing towards them.

"Oh _FUCK! _RUN! _RUN!_"

Quickly rotating on his heels, Alex took off, Rudolph following closely behind.

"KEEP MOVING! DON'T STOP!"

Rudolph began to slow down, growing exhausted running through the now nearly chest-high water, he stumbled, "Oh God!"

"GET YOUR ASS MOVING, RUDY!"

As they saw a ladder heading up to a hatch taking them back to the floor above, they picked up speed, the wall of water now almost upon them. They could feel the cold spray of the torrent, it was right on their heels.

"We're not gonna make it...!" Rudolph cried, and he was cut off as he slipped, falling into the water and disappearing beneath the murky depths.

"Shit! Rudolph!" and Alex abruptly turned around, holding an arm against his face, as if it would protect him from the torrent. As the water slammed into him, pulling him down and flooding the hall to the top, he screamed, "Oh _CRAP!_"

The water rushed into his eyes, mouth and nose with enough force to knock what wind remained in his lungs out, he struggled for breath, taking in only the water, and his vision abruptly dimmed before winking out completely.

Slowly, Alex came to, hearing the sound of coughing and dripping water, as well as the sound of the Hornet's engine. His eyes slowly opened, and he saw Rudolph dragging him out of the flooded elevator shaft, dripping wet with water. All around him, soldiers, drenched all the way through, nearly drowned, coughed up water, praising God for their rescue. About half-way to the waiting Hornet, Rudolph collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath and coughing up water himself, breathing heavily. He rolled until he was on his back, facing Alex, "Alex...are you alright?" he managed in between gasps.

Alex, in between his own bout of coughs and gasps of the cool, crisp air, managed, "I'm fine...yourself?"

Once he had retrieved his breath, the reindeer continued, "That...that was too close for comfort."

"How...how did we get out?"

"The water..." he began, "The water carried us to the elevator shaft, we were almost there...simple matter of climbing out...or swimming out rather...it had...it had collapsed, the car had fallen through the floor into the foundation."

"Still...let's not try that again? Okay?"

"No shit..." and Alex shielded his eyes against the blinding light of the Hornet's spotlight as the door slid open, and he watched Elliot and Piermont standing just inside, waving them to get over there. Two of the men who had rode with them here rushed out of the machine and to their aide, helping them the rest of the way across the helipad and into the helicopter.

"C'mon! C'mon! Let's go! Let's go!" Elliot called over the roar of the engines. Once they had reached the machine, the two soldiers climbed back in, and Elliot and Piermont both reached out, Elliot pulling Alex into the machine, Piermont pulling Rudolph, laying them on the floor across from the pair. The other soldiers who had survived the flood stumbled into the machine, shivering in the cold, most of them still coughing, as the last one to climb in slid the door shut and smacked the wall of the craft, signaling they were ready to take off.

As the Hornet rose into the air, taking off to the north, Piermont chuckled, nodding towards them, "Looks like someone went for a dive."

Elliot asked, "You guys okay?"

"Yeah," Alex replied, shaking his head, "We're fine...alive at least..."

"Yeah, and that was too close for comfort," Rudolph added.

Elliot continued, "Well, I'm glad you boys are okay...but at the risk of sounding like a total ass, you better get used to it if you aren't by now, Corporal, which being here for three years, you should know already. This shit ain't gonna get any easier from here on out."

"I know..." the reindeer replied, embarrassed.

"Leave him alone, Elliot...let him catch his breath," Alex replied, waiting for his nerves to calm.

With a sigh, Elliot leaned back, smacking his head against the back of the machine, "Shit..."

After several moments of awkward silence, Piermont asked, "Well...now what?"

"Unfortunately," Elliot began irritated, "We still ain't done. You guys got my computer right?"

"Yeah..." Alex replied, handing the soiled case to the general, "After our little bath, dunno if it still works or not though."

"Better fuckin' hope it does...we'll go to our Lake Michigan base, already relayed the message to the rest of Alpha Company, they'll meet us there," Elliot replied, pulling it out of its case and trying to turn it on. Thankfully, it flicked on with a greeting tune.

"Shit man...setting aside these residential raids, how many of our bases have been attacked in the past month?" Alex asked, breaking the enveloping silence once again.

"Too damn many...at least two," Elliot replied, shutting the laptop down and sliding both it and it's case beneath his bench.

"What's going on? I saw their uniforms...those aren't LKA. LKA never deviates from their beige BDUs, those weren't LKA," Alex continued.

Elliot shrugged, "I know they aren't...but whoever they are, it's the same force that's been blasting away our other bases."

"You think they're the same guys responsible for the raids?"

"Could be, Commander, hard telling...just...get some rest, we're en route to Chicago now...you, too, Private."

"No need to tell me twice, General," Rudolph replied, sighing in relief.

"We'll probably make a few pitstops before we go to Chicago...but I'll wake you guys when we get there."

"Alright. Sounds good," Alex replied, relaxing. Within minutes, he was out cold, reliving their close brush with death.


	3. Chapter II: Battle of Lake Michigan

_**Chapter II**_**:**

**-''Battle of Lake Michigan''-**

**-Above Chicago, Illinois-**

**-**_**20 August 2008**_**-**

**-**_**0522 Hours**_**-**

"Wake up! We're here!"

Alex was awakened by a kick in the foot, and as he opened his eyes, he blinked around the area, adjusting to the dim light before sitting upright, leaning forward and rubbing his eyes. "Where the hell are we?" he asked.

"Above Chicago, almost to Site Echo-Charlie," Elliot responded, turning to look out the window, tucking his legs up against the bench he sat upon. In the dim light of the vehicle's interior, Alex could only make out the glowing sphere marking the butt of his cigar, and a faint silhouette of the general's face against the dark blue light shining from outside.

"You don't think our friends followed us up here, do you?" Rudolph asked, sounding concerned.

"Hard telling, Rudy," Elliot replied, "We'll see what happens."

"I'm trying to figure out what the hell is going on," Piermont began, "Charlie-Bravo is, what, the second base in the past _week _to get hit by this goddamn OpFor?"

"Roger," Elliot replied with a nod, "I have almost all of Gamma and Delta Companies hunting down any information on the identity of these sons of bitches, but for now, all we can do is sit on our asses and twiddle our thumbs."

"Fuckin' hell," the human-form dragon growled, "Gettin' _real _tired of this bullshit."

"You ain't the only one, Pierre."

"Gotta be some reason for all of this..." Alex replied, "I mean, who in their right frame of mind would walk around leveling Terminator-friendly bases that have little involvement with Alpha Company? I mean, Alpha is, without a doubt, what they're after, why don't they just attack the Quads directly, like the LKA did?"

"Either they're smart enough to realize that defenses in the Quads are much stronger than what they can deal with, if they're a relatively small army...or dumb enough that they don't realize we're camped out up there. My money's on the former," Rudolph replied.

Alex nodded, "I'm with you on that one."

"Yeah, well..." Elliot began, "For a small army, these sons of bitches sure are causing a lot of trouble and wrecking a lot of havoc on bases that have little to no strategic value for any greater mission they may desire."

"We don't know that," Rudolph replied.

"Bullshit we don't, Rudy. There is nothing really worthwhile about _any _of those bases. If anything, they're just slightly more heavily defended outposts."

"Maybe they're chasing Alpha Company?" Rudolph suggested.

"Negative," Elliot responded, "Unless Alpha made a surprise visit to Fort Frostbite and I wasn't aware. First Anchorage got hit, then Connorsville...what the hell are these guys doing?"

"Maybe they don't even know," Alex replied with a grin, yawning.

Elliot only grunted in response as the helicopter lowered to a landing on a helipad just inside of Site Echo-Charlie, sitting on the banks of Lake Michigan. As the High Command, Elliot, and the rest of the Hornet's passengers disembarked, they were approached by a guard who informed Elliot, "Sir, Alpha has arrived."

"Good," the general replied in a gruff voice, marching towards the main facility, the rest of his men and the High Command in tow.

"Glad to hear they're up bright and early..." Alex replied with a grin.

Elliot snapped back, "Glad to see _you _up bright and early, Vaughn."

"Yeah, little Ali ain't much of a morning person..."

"Piss off, Pierre," Alex snapped, interrupting Piermont.

"Can it, both of you," Elliot said coldly.

As they entered the building and trudged towards the conference room, Piermont remarked, "Shit, this place looks nearly unrecognizable from the _last _time we were here, back when we nailed 'No-Tongue' and the LKA's balls to the wall."

"We've been putting a lot of work into renovating the place," Elliot responded, and, with a smirk, added, "Not like the LKA will have any use for it anymore."

"And the hangar?" Alex queried in an unsure tone, remembering all-too-well his imprisonment and torture here back in October of 2002, and the confrontation with the rogue soldier, ending in the execution of the Commander's friend, Rapid.

"Converted into office space," Elliot replied with a firm nod, "Don't worry, Vaughn, no trace of the LKA's hold here remains."

"Thinking about Rapid?" Piermont asked in a concerned tone.

Silence from the Commander, informing the dragon of all he needed to know. Even six years after the skunk's death, it was clear that the fall of Alex's former second-in-command and arguably best friend second to Cheet-a young cheetah cub whom had been captured and tortured with them at the time-was still fresh in Alex's mind.

"Rapid? Who's Rapid?" Rudolph asked.

"Don't worry about it, Rudy," Piermont growled, "Before your time."

"That makes me worry about it even_ more_, Piermont."

"Yeah, well shut up, drop it."

As they entered the conference room, overlooking the boardwalk and the wet docks, they were greeted by the rest of the animalian Alpha Company, lounging around the room, clearly struggling to remain awake. Alex approached the only fully alert member of his unit, Crash Bandicoot, one of the oldest members of Alpha Company, even if not one of the original founders. The bandicoot extended a paw, which Alex shook, accompanying with a pat on his back, "Nice to see you boys could make it," the Commander stated.

"Well, when Elliot tells us that it's urgent we get down here, it's urgent...what the hell is going on anyway? I've heard some bad things about Site Charlie-Bravo..." Crash replied.

Interrupting him, Alex said, "It doesn't matter, actually...it is important...but Elliot will elaborate on that here."

"Unless our mysterious army decided to follow us here," Rudolph chimed in.

With a fake smile, Alex muttered under his breath, "Shut it, Rudy."

"In which case, we're boned," Piermont added with a nod. Alex only turned to glare at his dragon, who shrugged, "Hey, don't give me that look, I didn't do nothin'!"

They suddenly became aware of the sounds of muffled, hurried chatter outside the room, which all of them, especially Alex, Rudolph, and Piermont looked uneasily towards. A soldier, a sergeant first class by his insignia, suddenly entered the room, saluting, "Uh, sir, the T.M.S _Supernova _is picking up some unusual readings."

"I'll go check it out," Rudolph suddenly interrupted, "I've heard Elliot's spiel already."

"Oh fuck off..." Elliot growled.

"I can go..." Alex began, to which he was instantly interrupted by Elliot.

"No, Vaughn. You're gonna help me explain what the _hell _is going on to the rest of Alpha Company in the event that my laptop _is_,indeed, shot."

"But you tested it on the way here..."

"Yes, but I just checked to see if it would turn on. Dunno if the water could have screwed with the hard drive and the system memory."

"Crap..." Alex sighed.

"I'll be back," Rudolph replied, leaving the room, following the sergeant.

Once the door shut behind them, Elliot turned on his computer, and while waiting for it to boot, began, "Alright! Listen up ladies, Site Charlie-Bravo is the second in a chain of bases to fall to this unknown force. We need to figure out _who_ this force is, and find a way to stop them."

"Preferably before the entire damn country decides we're going against them," Alex added, "Since I don't doubt that these base attacks are connected, at least on some level, with the overnight razings around the country of civilian cities and the massacres of said cities' residents."

"Roger that, Commander," Elliot replied with a nod.

Suddenly, air raid sirens began to sound, and one of the meeting attendants exclaimed, "What the hell...?"

Another soldier asked, "What's going on?"

Elliot collapsed in his chair, placing his face firmly in the palm of his hand, and with a loud growl, roared, "You have_ got _to be joking..."

Alex stood up, along with Elliot, and the two ran to the window on the other side of the room, looking to the skies and seeing a number of fighters flying above.

"Son of a..." Elliot began before being interrupted by a nearby, muffled explosion. One of the fighters, it's rear devoured in flames, came down towards the window, as if in a kamikaze run. "SHIT!" the general howled, "Get back! God dammit! Get...!" and he was interrupted as the plane impacted with the window, sending Alex flying back, slamming painfully into the back wall. He slid down, in a daze, his vision dangerously flickering black, everything in slow motion as he saw Elliot's blurry form run towards him, "Vaughn! VAUGHN!" as the world snapped back to normal, pain tearing through Alex's body, his heart beating powerfully in his ears as he felt his whole body itch and tingle with the blue sparks of healing, Elliot finally reached him extended a hand and helping him up, picking up the revolver from a slain soldier and handing it, butt first, to the Commander, "They got us here, too, Vaughn! Go find Rudy! I'll start evacuating the base!" as Elliot ran out of the room, Alex ran towards the breach in the wall, leaping down to the ground, Piermont slipping down beside him, shaking his head.

The human-form dragon was bleeding from his ears and nose, and a large gash on his forehead was slithering with the blue sparks of healing. "These cocksuckers are really, _really_, _REALLY _starting to PISS ME OFF!"

"We need to find Rudy!" the Commander roared, "C'mon, Pierre, let's go."

"Right behind you, man," and the human-form dragon reached down to pick up an assault rifle from a slain soldier, checking the clip before reloading it, cocking the weapon. As the pair raced along the boardwalk, engaging more of those black body-armored soldiers who were rappelling down from black gunships, they watched as the enemy fighters were engaging the ships in harbor. "Christ!" Piermont growled, "It's like Pearl fuckin' Harbor all over again! What the hell is going on?"

"Stop talking, keep moving!" Alex roared, "Stop and you're dead!"

Once they reached the end of the west docks, they received a frantic call for help on their radios, "Enemy fighters have engaged friendly forces at the dry docks and fuel yards, requesting immediate support, over!"

"Dammit..." Piermont swore, "Hell are we gonna do?"

"Rudy can hold his own for a little while, I'll head to the docks if you head to the fuel yard."

"You _sure _that little bastard can fight? I mean, there's a reason why he's _still_, three years later, under your apprenticeship."

"He's gonna have to," Alex replied sternly, "Let's move! Now!"

"Right, right, let's regroup at the _Supernova_'s dock."

They split up, then, Alex heading across the base towards the dry docks, taking down any and all enemy soldiers in his path. All around him, friendly ships were struggling to hold off the waves of enemy fighters, and Alex wondered what exactly _was _going on. None of this made sense, and Elliot was right, there was little strategic value in this army's attacks. Fort Frostbite was a landlocked training camp near Anchorage, Alaska, Site Charlie-Bravo was a radar station but _did _hold some research value, as some prototypes were tested at the site, and Site Echo-Charlie, formerly an LKA headquarters before being ransacked and seized by the Terminator Militia back in 2002, was nothing more than a naval yard for ships on the brink of decommissioning...what _was _going on?

In addition to this, Alex was almost _sure _that these soldiers were _also _responsible for the slaughter of civilians occurring in and around the Bible Belt of the American southeast. The soldiers they were fighting seemed to be formally, professionally trained, meaning that it couldn't have been any simple cult or militia, and they were wielding military-grade weapons and body armor. Only after taking down a cluster of the enemy soldiers guarding the dry docks did he take a moment to observe the corpse of one of the slain soldiers. It didn't take long for him to realize that they were dealing with US Army. "What the...?" he began, then, tapping his earpiece, "Elliot, I got something on these soldiers we're fighting."

"What do you got?" the general replied.

"There aren't just any random fighters, they're US Army."

"US Army? The _hell _is the US military doing fighting friendlies?"

"I think there is something far more sinister than we realize going on here."

"Yeah, no shit. You found that damn reindeer of yours?"

"Negative, had to detour to relieve friendlies at the dry docks."

"Yeah, well once you do that, find Rudolph, then get your ass over here to the helipad, we're pulling out, heading back to the Quads."

"Really? We're just gonna leave another one of our bases to fall to these S.O.B's!?"

"Hell do you expect us to do, Vaughn? I told you, they've been hitting places with very little strategic value, nobody knows what the hell they're doing or why."

"Last I checked, a research site and a naval yard is of quite a large amount of strategic value."

"Not really, Charlie-Bravo is for very early prototype testing, but it's being phased out by our base inside of those mountains east of the Quads. Echo-Charlie is a refueling and repair yard for our ships, everything there is a relic from the LKA Conflict and is operating on its last legs. The _Supernova _is a lone exception, even then, it's still from the later half of the LKA Conflict to the early portion of the LKA Uprising. Most of the ships here are coming for a final servicing before decommission."

Alex stormed the dry docks, taking down anyone and everyone he saw as he struggled to clear the docks. There were many of them, constantly pouring in, and they were armed with silver rounds. Thankfully, the version of the serum he and the rest of his unit had injected themselves with two years prior had indeed granted them full immunity to their once damning weakness. After relieving the pressure on the few surviving soldiers holding the dry docks, Alex left them, heading back out onto the boardwalk where he continued his advance towards the _Supernova_, hoping to find Rudolph there. He finally reached the _Supernova_ around ten minutes later, finding it surrounded by advancing US soldiers. Flanking them and swiftly bringing them down, he charged up the ramp and onto the ship, finding it damaged, but still afloat. He charged through the ship, making his way to the bridge, where the ship's captain was staring, transfixed, over the view of the ship before him, badly damaged, the deck breached in several places, allowing a view into the decks beneath. Enemy aircraft were constantly doing flybys, gunning and bombing the deck, and, although they were holding for now, the tides were going to turn very quickly if the relentless onslaught did not cease.

"What's going on? Need any help?" Alex asked him.

The captain started, then rotated on his heels, saluting as he said with relief, "Oh thank Christ, it's you Commander Vaughn, your _protege_ made his way to the main deck on portside."

"Roger," the Commander replied, charging back the way he had come, heading towards the deck. By now, the enemy soldiers had begun swarming the ship, taking up defensive positions and attempting to lure friendly forces into choke points. Luckily, he had plenty of experience in these tactics, and managed to flank and defeat them with relative ease. Soon, he found himself racing onto the deck, gasping for breath. Around him, the city and lake was in flames, there seemed to be an endless supply of enemy aircraft, and Alex smiled grimly at the thought, _This must have been what Pearl Harbor was like..._

As he continued his sprint across the shot-up wood deck, he expanded his mind past the borders of his body, scouring the ship for any sign of Rudolph's heartbeat. It was a tactic that all of Alpha Company possessed. He made his way into an isolated corner, safe from the battle...for now. He crouched to a kneeling position, closing his eyes as he placed the palm of his hand against the hot deck, shaking loose the binds containing his mind as, in an instant, the darkness before his closed eyes took on an ocean of detail. He saw, all around him, his surroundings, outlined like a chalk sketch on a black slate, constantly shifting and changing like some kind of old-school animation. He forced his mind to rocket out of the immediate vicinity, racing at the speed of light around the ship, down into the bowels, back to the surface, and out into the world, all in the space of a second or two. Soon, he was seeing the entire city from a bird's eye vantage point in that mental vision. Within moments, he spotted a pulsating light, beating with his ally's heart, and he zeroed in on the source, drowning out the millions of other, seemingly weaker heart beats that pulsated vibrantly in the city. Rudolph was on the_ Supernova_, and he was in trouble. "Shit! Rudy!" he swore, leaping to his feet as he ran around the deck, heading to the opposite side. "Rudolph!" he called, "Where the _hell _are you, mate?"

Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and he barely had time to react as an enemy plane, in flames, first fired its wing-mounted machine guns in a strip across the deck, before coming down hard and fast, throttling it to the max, going kamikaze. He tried to outrun the plane, to get off the deck, but he couldn't move fast enough, and as it crashed into the deck right behind him, heat and pain smashing into his back and spreading rapidly throughout his body as molten shrapnel embedded itself into his flesh, the shockwave of the explosion smashed into his back like a brick wall, sending him flying forwards and sliding into the ground, burying splinters in his chest and face. Everything occurred in slow motion, his ears were ringing, he was aware of fluid streaming down the side of his head from his ears, a combination of blood and cerebrospinal fluid, and his heart beat soundly in his ears. All other sound was muffled as he looked around, aware of his labored breathing and pulsing heart. Distantly, he could hear a voice, quiet, but becoming louder and louder, closer and closer...

"_Alex!_" feeling the blue sparks dancing across his multiple injuries, healing them within moments, he slowly started to pick himself up, dazed, and that was when he saw Rudolph emerge around the corner, eyes wide and frantic as he ran towards his friend. Out of nowhere, another enemy plane appeared on the horizon, unleashing a spray of MG fire that followed right on the reindeer's heels until the first round tore through his rear left leg. He stumbled, falling forward, but not before a dozen more rounds tore through his flesh, the entrance and exit wounds marked by a spray of sanguine.

"_RUDOLPH!_" Alex cried, but his voice was muffled and hoarse as his vision slowly returned to him, the tinnitus in his ears slowly receding. As the spray of bullets stopped, so, too did Rudolph, body stiff and erect, unlike the ragdoll it had been against the enemy gunfire. He stood in place for a mere second before falling forward to the ground, a pool of deep red slowly beginning to grow around him. With the explosion of another kamikaze plane crashing into the ship's bridge, Alex hearing and alertness finally snapped back into place, and crouched beside his friend's side. Rudolph was in shock, breathing heavily, stunned, but seemingly not realizing the extent of his injuries. "Shit..." he whispered, "Jesus Christ..." and he helped the reindeer up as he began to carry him off the ship.

"All personnel! Evacuate the _Supernova immediately_! We are taking on water! Repeat! All personnel are to evacuate the _Supernova _immediately!"

Alex was suddenly aware of Elliot mumbling mid-sentence into his ear. "What was that, Elliot?"

"Have you found that god damn reindeer of yours yet, Vaughn!? We need to get out of here!"

"Where's the LZ?" he asked in between breaths, he was not used to the reindeer, who was little more than a dead weight right now, and his weight.

"Near the Triple A fields, listen...I need you to hurry, the rest of Alpha has already pulled out, only you, Rudy, and Pierre are left out there, and Pierre's on his way as we speak. If you don't get here in the next five minutes, I'll have no choice but to leave you behind."

"I'll be there."

"You damn well better, Vaughn! We can't lose you!"

As he finally reached the decimated Triple A fields, marked by a cluster of green smoke grenades, where only one anti-aircraft gun was still operational, they met Piermont and Elliot already at the LZ, using crates lying around for cover from the enemy fire. The opposition had managed to fully encircle them now, and were attacking on multiple sides. As the Hornet meant to take them away lowered to the tarmac, it was abruptly shot out of the sky by an unseen RPG, crashing into the ground and into a smoldering pile of mangled steel.

"FUCK!" Elliot swore, "God DAMN it!" and he crouched as close to the crate as he could, tapping his earpiece, "Mayday! Mayday! This is Reaper! Our goddamn bird has been grounded and we need immediate evac, now!"

"Uh, negative, Reaper, we are hard pressed as it is, you will have to hold position until we can get to you, over."

"There's no time! They're right on our asses! We don't stand a chance!"

Just then, another Hornet landed nearby, and as the door slid open, Elliot raced over to it, "Oi! Let us on!"

"Negative!" the two soldiers who exited the aircraft replied, hoisting a barely-conscious man, bleeding profusely from his chest, his face and hands covered in third degree burns, said, "Medevac," and he nodded towards Alex, struggling to hold up the unconscious Rudolph, "Get him over here!"

Alex stumbled over to the Hornet, helping the two men lift Rudolph onto the machine as they climbed in behind him. As they were about to slam the door shut, Alex asked, "Yo! Where you headed?"

"Cartoon City," he replied.

Alex nodded, waving them off as the door slammed shut and the Hornet rose into the air, disappearing beyond the horizon. As the Commander turned around, he found Piermont crouching right in front of him, "We're screwed man! We don't stand a chance!"

"Keep it together, Pierre! We're gonna get out of this!"

"Bull_shit _we are! There's too many of 'em and we're out of time!"

He was interrupted as Elliot, spraying his assault rifle in the direction of several enemy soldiers in cover and firing upon him, ran over to them, saying, "Vaughn! Evac's five minutes out! I need you to get on that gun," and he pointed to the now-vacant anti-aircraft weapon nearby, "And help us keep these sons of bitches at bay until our Hornet arrives."

Alex only nodded as he sprinted towards the anti-aircraft gun, throwing off a corpse and taking his place, warming up the gun and beginning to fire towards the enemy soldiers advancing into the LZ. In between waves of the rushing soldiers, Alex turned the gun's attention towards the burning skies, where the enemy planes still kept coming in droves. As he brought down another wave of enemy soldiers charging towards the LZ, the gun finally ran dry, and Alex was forced to dismount, diving forward and out of the way as an RPG zoomed above his head, blasting into the gun.

Down to the last few clips, and with the enemy almost upon them, they felt the wind of a Hornet behind them, and a voice over their radio say, "Look out, gentlemen, danger close."

Just then, the Hornet unleashed a barrage of rockets that succeeded in cleanly wiping out the enemy presence in the area, but they could see another massive wave of soldiers and armor fast approaching. The Hornet hovered just above the tarmac, wing-mounted MG's firing in bursts towards the advancing troops as Alex, Elliot, and Piermont all reached the aircraft, the side door sliding open and three soldiers supplying cover fire with assault rifles as one of them nodded towards the trio, "Get in! Hurry!"

They did, with Piermont, at the group's tail, slamming the door shut as he climbed towards the front of the aircraft, mounting one of the Hornet's fixed minigun emplacements. As Elliot and Alex took a seat on the benches, catching their breaths, the soldier who has told them to mount the craft, smacked the wall of the machine, "Alright! We got 'em! Let's pull out!"

"Roger," the pilot replied, and the Hornet began its ascent, the barrage of cover fire never ceasing from its defenses. It curved out of the way of a flurry of RPGs, heading towards the northeast horizon.

Once he had caught his breath, Elliot nodded towards the Commander, "You alright, Vaughn?"

Alex nodded, "Fine..."

"He'll be okay, don't worry. Alpha's tough."

"I know..." the Commander replied, switching the safety on his rifle and ejecting the clip, his last one. Only a single bullet remained in the magazine. Grinning widely, he threw the gun onto the floor, smacking his head back against the hot steel of the Hornet's interior wall. "My biggest fear is how long this is gonna go on for...and what we're up against."

"Never fought a force with so much balls, that's for sure," the general replied with a sigh, wiping the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his uniform.

"Neither have I," Alex replied with a sigh, "This ain't the LKA."

"I thought we already established that, Vaughn," but he chuckled.

With a grunt and a sigh, Piermont approached them, emerging from the cockpit. Throwing his rifle down up against the wall beneath the bench, he plopped down beside Alex, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a crumpled pack of Marlboro Reds. Shaking out one of the cigarettes, he placed it into the corner of his mouth, striking a light in the ball of his hand and lighting the cigarette, extinguishing the flame with the clench of his fist. Taking a long drag and exhaling into the air, he said, "Not the way I wanted to spend my morning."

"Welcome to war, son, better get used to it," Elliot replied with a sigh, removing his own cigar from his front pocket and producing a battered lighter from the same pocket, lighting the cigar and blowing smoke puffs into the air.

"This is fucking ridiculous, man," Piermont replied, "What the hell is going on around here?"

"We don't know, Pierre."

"The LKA were _never _so balsy to attack us directly, or so frequently."

"This ain't the LKA," Elliot reiterated in an irritated scowl.

Alex, taking a long drink from his canteen, then stated, "No they aren't. Question is...who _are _they?"


	4. Chapter III: Division

_**Chapter III**_**:**

**-''Division''-**

**-Phoenix, Arizona-**

**-**_**12 September 2008**_**-**

**-**_**1713 Hours**_**-**

"This is Dana Wilson of Phoenix Local News live at the scene where presidential candidate Barry Mabao is going to address the people on the recent terrorist attacks. Let's listen in..."

"MABAO! MABAO! MABAO!" emerged the chants of the crowd as hundreds upon hundreds of people gathered just outside city hall, eagerly awaiting the speech of presidential candidate Barry Mabao.

"As you can see, hundreds of people have turned out to watch Barry Mabao's speech, and are eagerly awaiting his arrival," and the deeply tanned woman touched her earpiece through her straightened, shoulder-length brown hair, "Hold on, it seems the speech is about to begin, let's tune in."

The man known as Barry Mabao, his skin tanned brown, his brown hair short and well-kept above his warm, hazel eyes, clad in a tuxedo, stepped up onto the platform erected for him. Of all the presidential candidates running for office, Mabao, a registered Democrat and running under the Democratic ticket was the only one to address the terrorist attacks occurring around the country, and this was winning him waves of support. He was currently leading in the polls, and many projected he would win a landslide victory for the 2008 elections. He carried himself high, always wore a firm, confident smile, and was always seen speaking to his supporters on one-on-one terms, and as he stood tall and erect at the podium, million dollar smile shining across the crowd and causing another flood of cheers to erupt from within, Mabao held up a hand in appreciation, thanking them before lowering towards the microphone and saying, "My fellow Americans, I appreciate the warm reception from the good people of Phoenix, Arizona, but please, the pleasure is all mine. I've been keeping up to date on these tragic killings across the country, and I promise you all that you are in good hands. We will take care of you..._I _will take care of you, and I will make sure that we stop the evil men behind these horrible crimes."

One man from within the now-silent crowd screamed, "Are the Terminators responsible!? Everybody's saying the Terminators are responsible for this!"

"Good question," Mabao replied, "One that I admittedly can't say I have an answer for. However, for many, many years, the Terminator Militia and her commanding body, the noble Alpha Company, have been protectors of the American dream, it is understandably difficult, but not unlikely, to believe that they could be behind these terrible crimes against God and man."

"What do you think!?" the man screamed, and the crowd erupted in similar questions.

"Me? Personally, I can't say one way or the other, at least, not at this point in time. Currently, I lack the evidence to give you all a surefire yes or no answer, but I promise you, that if I am elected President of the United States, I _WILL _get to the bottom of these attacks, and I _WILL _have an answer for you as soon as possible. These attacks will not go unpunished, nobody deserves to live in fear for their lives, and no person, regardless of what they have done and haven't done in their lives, deserves to have to endure such horrific crimes as these. We _WILL _get to the bottom of this, I promise you all, and we _WILL _stop them, whoever the perpetrators are, and punish them to the fullest extent of the law."

Another voice called out, "They say that Terminator bases are being attacked as well, we had two in Illinois just a few weeks ago...do you think they are part of the rest of these attacks?"

"Oh, I wouldn't doubt it," he replied, "But who's not to say that those attacks aren't staged to trick the world into believing they are innocent? Now, I'm not saying one way or the other, but we must keep an open mind. In this world, anything is possible, and the experts tell me that having such a history as Alex Vaughn, the Terminator founder and commander, has, being a child soldier and all, could have disastrous effects on the developing psyche. However, years of evidence of their good deeds and stopping such evil organizations as the LKA, as well as completely revamping Cartoon City and the Montana Quads, turning a cesspool of crime and corruption into one of the most respected and cleanest cities in the world, a role model to all, being self-sustaining and with a crime rate of nearly zero, have proven otherwise."

"Listen to this guy," Piermont replied, chuckling as he turned his attention away from the television and back to his project, a wood carving, "Selling the good Samaritan facade to the masses. Friggin' politicians man...pisses me right the fuck off."

Alpha Company was in Suite 1 of the luxurious Club Camelot's penthouse floor, sitting around the living room, eyes glued to the television screen and Mabao's speech, broadcasting nationally across every network in the United States. Only Piermont and Alex were not very attentive, with the Commander busy cooking supper in the adjacent kitchen, and the human-form dragon using his black, steel, serrated combat knife to carve a block of wood into the image of a Bald Eagle perching on a tree branch.

"Politics in general is all about looking nice for the cameras while manipulating the nation behind closed doors, it's the same shit, no matter where you go," Cheet replied, splayed out on the couch beside Piermont, tail flicking idly back and forth.

"Yeah, and that's why I sometimes wonder if the world would be a better place without the fuckin' govies pullin' the goddamn strings."

"Careful what you say, Pierre," Simba replied with a chuckle, "The TV has ears."

Piermont only responded by flipping the television off and screaming, "Hey NSA, fuck you all, man, fuck you all nice and dry in the asshole."

"What are you bitching and moaning about, Pierre?" Alex asked, entering the room, a plate of Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes, and macaroni and cheese in one hand, a glass of milk in the other. "Supper's ready guys, if you're hungry," and he seated himself between Piermont and Cheet, placing his meal on the glass coffee table in front of the black leather couch.

"S.S.D.D," Cheet replied with a sigh.

Piermont, attention on his carving, only shrugged, "Just BS'ing about the govies pulling the Illuminati crap on the world. I hate politics, and I hate politicians even more...buncha lyin', thievin', two-faced, ass-kissing sons of bitches."

"Sums is up about right," Alex replied, and his cold blue eyes looked up to see Crash, Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles returning with plates of food. "Anyway, what did ol' Barry Mabao say to set you off _this _time."

"Doesn't have to say anything," Simba replied with a chuckle, "Thing about Pierre, _everything _pisses him off, don't even have to try."

"Amen to that, brah..." Piermont replied, emerald green eyes never averting from his precious carving.

"Did he say anything interesting while I was gone, or was it just the same old 'elect me and I'll make the country a better place for everybody' bullshit."

Simba shrugged, "He's stepping into the forbidden territory that is all these damn attacks going on around the country."

"Oh damn, call the police, call the fire brigade, call the men in black, we got ourselves a wild card here."

"Heh..." Simba said with a chuckle, "You're telling me."

"So what's he saying about 'em?"

Crash replied, "Just talking about how he refuses to take a stance as to whether we're involved or not..."

"Great...if he's doesn't defend us, he's against us."

"Judging by past experiences, I couldn't agree more," Cheet replied.

"I dunno, he's just trying to look good to everybody," Crash said, "Best way to do that is to remain a neutral, unbiased third party until he's got the proof to pick a side."

"Yeah, except for one thing..." Alex began.

"And that is...?"

"In politics, there's no such thing as being a 'neutral, unbiased third party', especially when we're talking a guy running for presidential office, and homegrown terrorists on the nation you're trying to represent's soil. If he's not supporting us, he's against us, end of story."

"What? You just pissed that Mabao's not all googly-eyed for you and the rest of the militia like past presidents were?"

"Don't test me, Crash, I ain't in the goddamn mood."

"Since when are you _ever _in the mood, Alex? You're always pissed off and grudging about something. Hell, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're worse than Pierre."

"Fuck you, Bandicoot," Piermont replied, never looking up.

"Love you, too, Pierre," Crash replied almost reflexively, "As for you, Alex. Sorry, but Mabao is independent and immune to your apparent charms and power, which I actually admire, he's not bowing down to worship the ground we walk on. Frankly, I'm tired of presidents, who are supposed to be _our _bosses and representatives of the country to the world, treating us like their superiors, it's not right."

"At least that means that we know what's going on and that they aren't plotting anything," Alex replied.

Crash sighed, "I don't get you."

"Yeah? I don't get you either, mate."

"Stop fighting you two, Jesus..." Cheet interrupted with a sigh, rolling onto his back and stretching, "Can we go a day without hearing you two bicker back and forth about shit."

"Nope. avi," Piermont replied, "Ain't never gonna happen, clash of the wills. You're basically trying to tell a warmonger, no offense, Alex, to make nice with a pacifist."

"Rapid was a pacifist and never butted heads with Alex," Cheet stated, the juvenile cheetah resuming his normal, splayed out, belly down position.

This put the entire room into a dangerous silence, no one mentioned the fallen skunk, ever. However, Alex only shrugged as if nothing had happened, saying, "Rapid, despite being an infallible pacifist, was loyal. He didn't like to fight, but he would if the situation arose."

"Bullshit," Crash replied, "He fought because he worshiped you. That's what I don't like about you, you prance around expecting everyone in this unit to worship you and take your side on every little topic that rises. Rapid didn't like to fight, no, but he was so spellbound in your charms that he was like the rest of you all...sheep. Sheep being led straight to the slaughter."

"Don't know why you continue to insult me, Crash, not after the stuff I've done for you."

"What 'stuff'? Besides make me fight."

Alex glared at the bandicoot, "I never asked you to fight."

"Guys! Stop fighting! Goddamn..." Cheet scowled, "Seriously, enough is enough."

"Gotta side with Cheet here," Simba replied, and the other lions nodded in confirmation.

"Buncha bitchy little girls, or an old couple," Piermont said beneath his breath, chuckling.

Silence fell before the room for several minutes before Cheet, changing the subject, asked, "So...how's Rudy doing? Haven't heard anything."

"Last I checked, he's stable," Alex replied with a sigh, "He got lucky."

"Know when he'll be able to come home?"

"Haven't a clue."

"Doubt anytime soon," Crash said, "It's not like he got shot full of silver bullets or anything. Immunity or not, tad bit overkill. He's lucky they didn't hit his vitals...mutant or not, he'd be dead if they did."

"Seems we always get lucky," Piermont replied with a snort.

"Don't jinx us, Pierre."

"Bah! I ain't gonna jinx us."

"One thing about Alpha Co," Sonic began, "Don't matter what you put us through, you can't get rid of us that easily."

"Amen, _hombre_," Piermont responded.

"So..." Simba began, "What do you guys think? You think Mabao's gonna win?"

"He's the popular vote in almost every single poll that's released, and he's willing to dive into subjects that the other candidates are too afraid to, but the American people _need _them to dive into, so my vote is a great big, 'aye'," Crash replied.

One by one, the others agreed.

Alex growled beneath his breath, "Still don't like 'em."

"You don't like anybody outside of Alpha Company, save for Elliot, Fox, and Bleu," Cheet said.

"And...your point is...?"

"Oh! But there _was _Zinnia as well...don't forget her," Piermont replied.

"Shut up, Pierre, don't bring her up."

"Right, right, sheesh."

"Anyway, I don't like Mabao, because there's something very...off about him, he's dangerous."

"Don't you think you're a little too harsh on the guy? Seriously," Crash replied.

"No, I'm not. It's a gut feeling, and my gut is never wrong."

"Yeah, okay, whatever you say."

Alex rolled his eyes, and Alpha Company fell silent, returning their attention to the television, where Mabao was closing his speech. Glancing around to ensure no one was paying any attention to him, Alex removed his wallet from his pocket, opening one of the flaps and removing a photograph, taken on their final day in the Regions. Regardless of what they said, or what happened between the Commander and the young girl known as Zinnia, he missed her, finding it difficult to overcome her absence. He pondered heading to Kalos to see her, but ultimately decided against it, she had told him that what they did that night was a one time ordeal, and that it would be best if they left it on that sweet note. With a sigh beneath his breath, he replaced the picture in his wallet, replacing it in his back pocket.

_Thinking about her? _Piermont asked him telepathically.

_Yes_, he replied, realizing there was no chance of lying to his dragon about it, he would know the truth, regardless of how hard he tried to lie, or how good of a liar he even was.

_Hell was between you two? You guys started actin' real funny towards the later end of our journey there._

_She was my friend, _Alex said with an audible sigh, _For once, I found a girl who understood me, and understood who I was and how I was, and best of all, was _okay _with that, plus_, and he chuckled, _I found out she was a zoophile, just like me in almost every possible way...a female me, dark origins aside._

_No shit?_ andPiermont grinned, _You loved her, didn't you? Little Ali had himself a crush._

Don't _call me, Ali, _the Commander threatened, _You know how that makes me feel, and I wasn't crushing on her...she was just my friend._

_Well, even if that was _remotely _true, which I know it isn't...she was crushing on you._

_How can you tell?_

_Seriously, man? You forget who I am? _and he audibly chuckled beneath his breath, eyes still on the wood carving, even though he wasn't working anymore. _I could read her, Cherub could, too. She had one hell of a mad crush on you._

_Great, make me feel worse._

_Sorry, I don't mean to, I'm just sayin'...you left quite an impression on that girl's heart._

_Okay... _he replied with a sigh, _So maybe I did...uh...like her a little more than a friend._

_We can pay a visit if you want._

_No_, Alex replied sternly, _I don't know where she is now, and it would be best if we just...moved on._

_Shit, man, judging by how you feel about her, and what your aura is saying, it's like you fucked her or something, _and he chuckled.

Alex only sighed, _I was attracted to her, yes, but...can we just stop talking about her? She's gone, that bird has flown, end of story._

Alex's eyes shot open as he sat up, breathing heavily. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he climbed out of bed, clad only in an undershirt and boxers, stumbling towards his balcony. Outside, it was raining heavily, thankfully, his balcony was set into the building's walls, protecting him from the weather, but he leaned against the stone rails, watching as the rain fell swiftly and steadily down upon the sleepy world. He blinked away the nightmares that had just terrorized him, a world at war, a wall of fire surrounding the Quads...it was the same nightmare that had plagued his sleep since they returned from Chicago... _What could it mean? _he asked himself with a sigh. The sheer vividity of the nightmare told him that it couldn't have been just a simple dream, something his imagination conjured while his vitals rested in an effort to make sense of the experiences he had perceived throughout the day. The vividity found in the dream was common only to visions, which he sometimes had, no doubt a gift from the mutation serum.

Lately, he had been tormented by visions, an onslaught of constant dreams, with little to no meaning or context, merely a series of still images, maybe various pieces of dialogues, or scenes with nothing interest to them at all, merely a living picture. The primary ones that had tormented him were the scene with the wall of fire, an image of a dolphin, its left eye clouded over, the apparent massacre at a city's fountain, and the name of 'Spyro'...by far the oldest of the visions, plaguing his sleeping mind since his youth, and a floating city, nestled in the clouds, coupled with the image of an army of ships, with the appearance of squid, dotting the skies.

_Why? _he asked himself, _Why are these fucking things in my head?_

_Dreaming of things to come again, aren't you, Alex? _a grim, grisly voice taunted from the deepest recesses of his mind, and Alex was aware of a sleeping presence awakening.

_Necrodusk..._

_Guilty as charged_, the indwelt demon chuckled with a sigh, _Your visions even have a way of worming their way into my slumber..._

_Can you make any sense of those images? _Alex asked.

_No, unfortunately. Then again, I am merely a bystander, watching and waiting from the shadows...or sleeping rather...few, if any, of those visions have any relevance to me, so I don't really care what they mean._

_Cheery and caring as always I see._

_But of course, I am a cheery and caring sort of soul, heh..._

_What do you want?_

_A little testy, don't you think?_

Alex said nothing.

_Sheesh, you're no fun, Alex._

_What do you want, Necrodusk._

_Nothing in particular, it is always fun watching you sort through the puzzles that crawl their way into your little head. Your mind and the way it operates is...very intriguing._

Alex said nothing in reply, choosing to ignore the possessing spirit coexisting in his body. Eventually, Necrodusk retreated once more into the deepest corners of his mind, going dormant once again as he returned into his hibernation. The visions conjured mixed emotions from the Commander, a combination of fear, fury, and, strangely, of longing and excitement. Not all of them were dark or evil, for example, the dolphin, whatever it could mean. Upon centering his thoughts around the animal, he was aware of a strange tick within his mind, a nearly unnoticeable heartbeat, unrecognizable and belonging to none of his companions. The animal was alive, somewhere, in this world, in this country, maybe even the very state. It didn't belong here, but it _was _here, regardless, and it was a relic of a forgotten time...a new arrival to our own, only appearing, perhaps, within the past week. Perhaps it had just been born?. It was lost...confused...frightened...and suffering...but it had no name, or if it did, it was long since forgotten. The heartbeat, the one he didn't recognize, Alex suddenly realized, belonged to the creature, but it was so faint, that unless he was thinking about it, it would go unnoticed. Shaking his head to remove the train of thought, for fear of being caught in an unsolvable puzzle, he instead returned his attentions to the storm before him, the rain falling heavily upon the sleepy world, comforting to his ears, one of nature's own lullabies. If only he knew that it would be the last time he would experience rainfall, perhaps he would have enjoyed it more than he allowed himself to.

With a sigh, and exhaustion creeping just out of reach, he returned to his room, closing and locking the French doors before falling forwards onto his bed, feeling more tired than he ever had before, and feeling more lonely than he could recall ever feeling before, except, maybe, after the death of his first real friend, the death of his hero, his idle...his train of thought abruptly ended here as he fell into a deep slumber, his sleep tormented by memory of the girl whom he had ventured with so recently, perhaps the only girl to ever understand him and how he felt, and perhaps felt similar, if not exact.

The following day, Alpha Company emerged above Ellsworth, Illinois, nestled between Vermilion and Connorsville, and the home of Bismarck High School, which Alex, and consequently the rest of his unit, attended. Although Alpha Company were not required to attend schooling, they went with him in part because they were there if he needed them, or they needed him, but also because there was nothing else going on back in Cartoon City, at least, nothing they could waste the day on. As Alex signaled for Piermont to land in the middle of the school's parking lot, the rest of the Alpha Company emerged around him in flashes of light, trotting alongside their leader towards the main entrance.

"Wonder what magical things get to occupy our day here _this _time," Piermont, transforming into his human form, stated with a grim smile.

"Wouldn't be a surprise if we knew, would it?" Cheet replied with a smug grin.

As they entered the school's lobby, Alex ignored the awkward and fearful glances cast towards them by the rest of the arriving student body. It was only two weeks into Alex's freshman year, and there were still, miraculously, some students and teachers who had yet to meet the warp-minded ex-child soldier and his clique of talking animals.

Piermont, relishing in the surprise shown by the students who had yet to meet them, as he always did, returned to his natural form in a flash of light, sounding a challenging roar that succeeded in scattering the onlookers. "Sometimes I love my life," the forest dragon said with a wide, toothy grin.

"Right..." Crash replied shaking his head, "You love to be an asshole."

"Of course, what fun is it if you're just gonna waste your life sulking and wallowing in self-pity for your mistakes."

"What does that have to do with _anything_?" Cheet asked.

"Don't question it," Simba replied, shaking his head, "It isn't worth it."

"He's basically admitting to bullying others to deal with his own problems in life," Crash said, "That's what it means."

"Not true!" Piermont exclaimed, aghast.

"Yes it is."

"So...?" the dragon replied, feigning a pout, "Why do you always gotta break my heart."

"Because I'm the master heartbreaker around here, I have a PhD in dream-crushing," Crash replied.

"Thought that was Alex," Sonic said, and the others bust out in wild laughter.

"Ha ha, very funny," the Commander replied.

"Well, you're always walking around lookin' pissed off at the world, people are scared of you, man," Cheet responded, and the others nodded in agreement.

"Good," Alex replied, "If they fear me, they'll leave me...us...alone."

"What? You think these people would bully us like the shit we had to undergo back in elementary school?" Cheet asked, "I'd assume these kids have grown up a little."

"You'd be surprised," Alex replied, "They may play nice to us for awhile, but soon, we'll be in the same goddamn boat we were back then. Same shit happened in junior high, as if I had to remind you guys of that."

"Think we'll ever be safe from all that scorn?" Cherub asked.

Alex nodded, "Yeah, maybe in college, or in the workplace. Anyway, I don't even fucking care anymore, let 'em think what they want and do what they will, not a single fuck will be given."

"Since when did _you_ become such a hard-ass?" Piermont asked.

"Better question, where the hell have you been all these years, Pierre?" Cheet asked with a chuckle.

"First world problems," Crash replied with a snort, "Pathetic really."

"Screw you, Crash."

"Love you, too, Alex."

Once they had reached Alex's locker, the Commander proceeded to remove the books for his first hour class from within, hanging his satchel on the hook bolted to the back wall and removing one of his gilded P2K's, looking around before quickly slipping the gun into his jean pocket, out of sight.

Piermont's eyes widened, "Oh come on, man! Did you really bring a gun to school!? We don't have clearance yet!"

"You never know when you'll need it," Alex replied, shutting his locker and spinning the dial, "Besides," and he grinned, "I brought my whole arsenal, in case we're called into action."

"The hell for!?"

"If these black-suited sons of bitches surface somewhere again and we're needed. Doesn't matter what the government thinks, service comes before education, always have, always will."

"Plot twist," Cheet began, "They fail you for lack of attendance. You were pretty damn lucky to slip through the grades in the past, even with your crappy attendance record and persistent procrastination to do and turn in your homework."

"Sound like my mom."

They reached their first hour class, Current Events, and, grabbing one of the newspapers stacked on the table in front of the door, headed to their seats, Alex sitting at his desk, the rest of Alpha Company at the circular table in the back of the room. Sipping from a bottle of water he had brought with him, Alex read the headlines, "_MABAO LEADING 2008 PRESIDENTIAL RACE, POLLS SAY_," and "_PRES. CANDIDATE BARRY MABAO ADDRESSES HOMEGROWN TERRORISM_."

Swearing beneath his breath, the Commander threw the paper onto his desk, rubbing his temples, he groaned as he felt a migraine coming down on him, and his vision began to flicker dangerously, signaling a flashback on the horizon. "Fuck no..." he replied, shaking his head, "Not right now...not here!"

"You okay?" a voice said from beside the Commander, startling him. He looked up, instinctively reaching towards the gun in his pocket when he noticed that it was just his teacher, the aging, but energetic, Marian Varn.

Alex nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine...just a migraine, that's all."

"Do you need to go to the office?" and Alex could see the light of understanding in the teacher's eyes, at least _this _once knew very well about the Commander's colorful history.

"Negative," he replied, "It'll pass...it always does," and he reached into his pocket, pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen, popping a couple of pills and downing them with his bottle of water before returning his attention to the paper on his desk, rubbing his temples, hoping to stave off the migraine. After a few minutes, he sighed with relief as the intensity of the light began to recede, the pain becoming bearable. Once he could think clearly again, he reached to the rack beneath his desk, where he had stashed his books, pulling out his notebook and turning to the first blank page, summarizing the headline on Mabao's address to Phoenix for the article they had to summarize as per their daily in-class assignment.

After he had filled the one page required of him, he closed the notebook, replacing it beneath his desk as he leaned back in his chair, clicking his ballpoint pen. Once the majority of his classmates had finished their assignment, Alex looked up to where the 70 year old Varn, who had been sitting on the front of his desk, leaped down and turned on his laptop and the projector near the front of the room, showing his desktop on the wall at the front of the classroom, an exotic sports car racing along a rainy track. Pulling up the internet browser, Varn asked, "So, how many of you watched Mabao's speech last night?"

Only Alpha Company raised their hands, and Alex, looking around to spy the rest of the class doing nothing, rolled his eyes and sighed.

"What did you think?" Varn asked.

"Cept that I don't trust Mabao as far as I can throw him?" Alex said, "I didn't like it."

"What was wrong with it?"

Crash, at the back of the room, suddenly chipped in, "He's just mad 'cause Mabao didn't outright say he supports our position on this whole scenario. Alex is paranoid like that."

"Shut up, Crash, you aren't helping."

"Well it's true, isn't it?"

Alex resisted the urge to swear at the bandicoot and flip him off, forcing himself to remember that he didn't need a trip to the principal's office, and a potential overtime stay at the school to further add to his series of crappy days.

"What's your position?" Varn pressed.

"We didn't do it, for one," Alex replied, "For another, this guys doesn't seem very fond of the Terminator Militia, which is bad news in my experience."

"Why would you do it?"

"Right," Alex began, "Forgot, you don't know. Mr. Varn, meet Alpha Company, of the Terminator Militia."

"I knew you were a child soldier,"

"_Ex_-child soldier," Alex corrected.

"Right...but I didn't know you were Terminators."

"Surprise!" he replied sarcastically, "Though I'm quite surprised you didn't expect anything sooner, I mean, how often do you have walking, talking animals in your classroom?"

"Well...can't say it's not anything I haven't seen before, gotta remember, I survived the 60's."

This caused the class to erupt in laughter, Alex only grinned, "Can't say I blame you. Though I do apologize...there's no pink elephant here...at least...not yet, hard telling whether or not there _will _be."

Come lunch time, Alpha adopted human forms long enough to make it through the lunchline before returning to their natural forms, sitting around one of the circular tables near the back of the cafeteria, away from the rest of the student body. Exchanging glances and looking out the nearby window, they moved to the benches in the courtyard outside, tolerating, but irritated, when several students, fitting into both the 'jock' and 'geek' niches, followed them out, taking seats at the bench across from Alpha Company.

"Fuckin' hell," Piermont remarked, stirring the spaghetti on his tray with a plastic fork, "And so it begins..."

"What does?" Cheet asked.

"Your classic, stereotypical high school niches trying to make nice with us. Though whether out of fear, with the intent to make our lives miserable, or, by some damn miracle, to be best buds...uncertain, will require additional observation."

"Ah," the cheetah replied.

"Sounds about right," Crash replied, "I enjoy eating outside, too bad there isn't as much scenery here as there was around the benches we'd eat lunch at back in Thomas Jefferson, under the shade of that big oak...here, we're surrounded on all sides by brick, with a dozen different classes staring at us right now, not trees, just..." and he kicked the ground, "Half-dead grass. Lovely."

"Must you always complain, Bandicoot?" Piermont snorted.

"And you're not?"

"Do you guys always fight?" one of the kids, tall, built, and tan, with curly black hair, a chinstrap beard, hazel eyes, and a football jersey began, nodding towards them.

All eyes were on their guests, and Alex sighed, "Do us a favor, leave us the hell alone, and we'll leave _you _the hell alone."

"Not a way to treat strangers, just trying to be friendly."

"Sorry, mate, but we don't make 'friends'," Piermont remarked, "Never have, never will."

"Crappy life?"

"Ha, that's putting it mildly," the human-form dragon spat, "You looked at our composition? The big cats we have here have been with us since they were cubs, and we've been with Ali here since he was learning his ABC's."

Alex elbowed his dragon painfully.

"Not everyone is like that, you know."

"Yeah, well most people are, so we'd prefer that _everyone _just stays as far away from us as possible. Would hate for things to get a little...ugly...cause we've all grown a pair since elementary."

"Where you from?"

"Vermilion," Alex replied, annoyed, "Formerly of Connorsville."

"Name's Jake," and he introduced the rest of his group.

"Yeah, I'm Alex, this is Piermont, Cheet..." and Alex introduced the rest of his unit.

"So, you guys are Terminators then? Alpha Company, am I right?"

Alex gave him a thumbs up.

"Guys got quite a rep behind you. All a bunch of heroes, you know."

"Yeah, tell Barry Mabao that," Piermont replied, "Maybe we can get that cocksucker off our asses."

Silence fell before them before Jake continued, "Not very social, are you?"

Alex feigned a grin, "When you're running around, dodging bullets flying at you from all angles and turning kids into Swiss cheese before they do the same to you, you don't really have the time to learn basic social skills."

"I can imagine."

"I'm sure you can't," and silence fell before them again.

After a few minutes, Jake said, "Well, nice meeting you guys."

"Yup," Alex replied, falling silent once again.

After school, Alex and Piermont emerged above Cartoon City, nearly blinded by the light of the sunset. Beneath them, the rest of Alpha Company arrived at the scene, heading towards Club Camelot. As they glided through the calm skies, Piermont asked his rider, "You know, maybe we should give those kids a chance."

"Which kids?"

"That Jake kid and his little clique, they seem honest enough."

"I'll give 'em a month. If they haven't done anything to us, then I'll consider making acquaintance with them."

After several moments of silence, Piermont continued, "I don't think it'll be as bad as it used to be. I mean, high school is a completely different animal from elementary and junior high. Most of them have matured into adulthood, and I'm sure we're gonna start seeing kids experiencing a wave of nostalgia with the kind of characters who gave them joy and showed them the magic of childhood, I think Bismarck is going to be different from past schooling experiences."

"Forgive me for being reluctant."

"I understand completely, man, I mean, we've all had it rough, think you're the worst out of all of us, though. I can see why you're reluctant to believe that not everyone is out to get you. Still though, you should trust me on this one. This is gonna be different."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Are you always gonna be a bitter, cold-hearted son of a bitch who only cares about himself?"

"Nope, cause I care about Alpha Company."

"That's not what I meant," the dragon scowled, "Just...give this a chance, man...for me?"

Alex snorted, "No promises."

"Thank you."

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a frantic call from Elliot, "Alex, Pierre, I need you and the rest of Alpha at the command center, pronto...there's something I think you boys need to see..."

Alex exchanged anxious glances with his mount before Piermont initiated a hairpin curve, heading towards the command center, Alex telepathically relaying the message to the rest of his unit on the streets below.

They reached the command center a few minutes later, Piermont crouching forward to allow his rider to dismount before transforming into his human form. Once Alpha Company, out of breath, had caught up to them, they entered the building, finding it strangely empty, with the exception of guards at the checkpoint, who were engrossed in the small television sets. Alex knocked on the wall, attracting their attention long enough for them to search him and allow him passage into the halls beyond the checkpoint. Once Alpha had been cleared, the guards returned to the televisions, and confused, Alex navigated the halls, Alpha Company in tow, heading towards the inner sanctum. Upon entering the war room, they were stunned to see that, projected on the wall, was news coverage of riots occurring around the country. The center's staff, many of the guards, and Elliot sat wherever they could, watching the chaos unfold.

"What the hell is going on?" Piermont asked, stepping forward and standing beside Elliot, Alpha Company behind him.

Elliot shook his head, "The shit's hit the fan boys..."

"I don't...what's happening?" Alex asked.

"Riots, all over the friggin' country..."

"What's it all about?"

"The attacks, the razings on cities? Yeah, almost every major city in the United States is thrust in total anarchy as protestors are taking to the streets."

"Protesting what?"

"Us," Fox replied, stepping forward. Randall Fox was a man of late twenties, tall and lanky, with short, curly brown hair, hazel eyes, glasses, and usually seen wearing combat boots and an unbuttoned lab coat over a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt, born of a Scottish father and American mother, raised in California, so no trace of an accent remained in his speech. As a boy, he had always been intrigued with various mythologies, and as he grew older, he attended medical school to become a psychologist, studying biology, human, and animal, both real and mythical, anatomy on his spare time. Because of this, he was Alpha Company's primary physician, and also served as the head of the Research and Development department alongside a baby dragon and technological prodigy named Bleu, hailing from the Gothics nation of Rune. The Gothics were a cluster of medieval nations located in the center of the Atlantic Ocean, and the Terminators were allied with two of their nations.

"Hell do you mean by 'us', Fox?" Piermont asked, arms crossed.

"He means just that," Elliot grunted, "They're all protestin' our influence. They think _we're _the ones responsible for these attacks, and now they're protestin' us and tryin' to get us destroyed, arrested, whatever it takes to remove us from the nation's workings, and from society...permanently."

"What the hell!? We're innocent!" Alex exclaimed.

"I know," Elliot replied, "But _they _don't."

"Ain't the government supporting us?"

"Negative, no word from DC, and I doubt they'll do anything for us anyway. President Erik Madison is a lame duck after the LKA became mainstream, and word broke out that he knew of their existence the whole time and did jack squat to get rid of 'em."

Alex watched, cold blue eyes wide with real fear, jaw dropped, speechless as the muted projection showed alternating scenes between various American city streets, in flames and full of people with signs against the militia and Alpha Company, wearing Nazi-like or otherwise white supremest costumes. There seemed to be police and S.W.A.T forces on the streets, attempting to control the chaos with tear gas and riot shields, but it was doing nothing to stop the onslaught.

"Protesters have already driven our forces out of every major city in the United States," Elliot replied, "And razed some of our bases and outposts...worse part is, some of the _military _and S.W.A.T teams are targeting our strongholds, too."

"Looks like our Golden Age has come to a crashing conclusion, and our fall from grace is not gonna be smooth..." Piermont replied bitterly.

"Is there anything I can do?" Alex asked in shock, eyes never averting from the screen.

Elliot, wearing a grim expression, shook his head, "No. I've already ordered our outposts to close up shop and return to the Quads at once," then, "Vaughn, I want Alpha Company to stay in the Quads, at least until this crap blows over. At least five major criminal organizations have hits on your heads, with six mil per head of the Terminator High Command alone on one of them."

"How does it feel to be public enemy number one?" Piermont asked rhetorically, in forced humor.

"Sir," a voice spoke up from within the crowd, "Barry Mabao is in Cleveland, and he's holding a speech on the riots."

"Put it on," Elliot replied, arms crossed on his chest, leaning back against a desk, eyes never shifting from the projection. The screen suddenly flashed to Cleveland, Ohio's local news station, and the volume was restored as Mabao silenced the applauding crowd.

"It has come to my attention that the people are rioting against the Terminator influence in the United States, demanding their removal from the country and possible deportation. I've been digging more into the attacks, and I've stumbled across some interesting information. Enough proof has been gathered across the nation to confirm the Terminator Militia's participation in the tragic murders terrorizing the good people of America. So, I will reveal my official stance on the subject...I _do _firmly believe that the Terminators are responsible, and although I don't condone the protests, I _do _agree that they need to be removed from all governmental positions and exemptions, and even deported from the country...forcibly if necessary. They are a threat to the American people, and there is not a doubt in my mind that their so-called 'heroic' actions in the past have had some kind of underlying meaning that benefits them and them alone. If I am elected president, that will be my _first _order of business, the exile of the Terminator Militia, and independence from their influence and their aide."

"Mute it," Alex ordered, and within seconds, the feed was silenced.

"Jesus..." Piermont replied, driven silent.

Alex craned his neck to face an awestruck Crash, "You still think he's the Messiah?"

Crash only exchanged a terrified, worried glance with the Commander. Alex turned to face everyone in the room, feeling nothing, observing as they all displayed a multitude of emotions: fear, rage, hopelessness, sadness, denial, betrayal...

"Elliot," Alex began firmly, facing the general, who wore an expression of borderline fury and betrayal, "Close off the city, relay an order to all of our allies, prepare for war."

"You think it will come down to that, Alex?"

"If Mabao is elected..." Alex began with a slow nod, looking off to the distance, lost in thought, "We _will _be at war. There's not a doubt in my mind he'll declare war on us."

"Sir," another voice spoke, "I'm monitoring a live survey depicting American reactions to the various presidential candidates..."

"And?" Elliot growled.

"Mabao's approval is at an all-time high, and steadily increasing, he's at least fifty points ahead of Carl Petersen, the second placer, with Mabao's 67% to Petersen's 15%, and the gap is only growing wider..."

"God _DAMMIT_!" the general roared, slamming his fist down on the desk he was leaning against.

"Prepare _all _of our allies for war, and I want the city to up its security. I want more patrols on the streets, install a curfew, work overtime to upgrade our defenses, we need to keep our capital protected at all costs. Nobody enters or leaves the Quads without going through _us_ first," Alex ordered.

Elliot, fuming, replied, "Roger," and he headed towards the hall leading back to the facility's entrance, tapping his earpiece.

"Alex..." and the Commander turned to face a frightened Cheet, "Are...are we gonna be okay?"

The Commander frowned, lowering his head and closing his eyes, "I...I don't know, Cheet."

"Time to test our strength," Piermont replied, "See just how far we've come, and if it's worth all the time and effort we put into the Terminator Militia's development and expansion. Because we just lost one of our biggest allies, and this is only gonna start a chain reaction..."

"I fucking know," Alex replied, more harshly than intended.

"The hell are we gonna do?" Crash asked, "I never wanted it to be this way...Alex, I'm sorry...I thought..."

"Don't say anything, Crash," Alex replied, raising his hand to silence the bandicoot, "I only hope that _now _you realize exactly the kind of man we're dealing with. I told you, there was something wrong with the guy, and my gut is _never _wrong."

"I was just...I was hoping he was different...the _good _kind..." but his voice trailed off.

"There's no such thing as a good politician," Piermont said with a sigh, "Absolute power corrupts absolutely."

"President of the United States does not necessarily qualify as 'absolute power'," Simba snapped bitterly.

"It is when you're dealing with a Manchurian candidate," Piermont replied.

"You think Mabao could be behind these attacks?"

"Anything is possible," Alex replied.

"Or he could be part of a sleeper cell," Cheet interrupted.

"That's possible, too."

"So what do you suggest we do, Alex?" the cheetah continued.

Silence from the Commander before, "We need to help Elliot reinforce the Quads. If Mabao or anyone else _does _declare war on us, we are not protected enough to resist an army without taking massive damage. If the Quads fall, we're done for."

"Even though we're all over the place?" Crash asked.

Alex nodded, "The Quads are our capital, they don't need to remove our influence everywhere to destroy us, taking down our capital is one of the oldest tricks in the book. You lose your capital, morale falls, and it is symbolic of the group's fall...it's why the Russians could not let the Reich take Stalingrad back during World War II. Between being a major port on the Volga River, which was important to their trading operations, and the fact it bore the name of the premier at the time meant that the fall of Stalingrad would symbolize the fall of the Soviet Union, and that is a symbolism that can have disastrous effects."

"You know, it would probably be a helluva lot easier if we were dealing with a single, unified body, instead of managing four separate entities."

"I'll see what I can do on that one. Now, c'mon, we have work to do."


	5. Chapter IV: Cynder

_**Chapter IV**_**:**

**-''Cynder''-**

**-Sierra Mountains: California-**

**-**_**01 January 2009**_**-**

**-**_**2105 Hours**_**-**

"I think we finally may be getting close to identifying exactly who these sons of bitches that we're dealing with are..." Elliot began over his radio as the Hornet carrying Alex towards the landing zone emerged in the dark, pitch black skies above the Sierra Mountains.

"What do you got?" the Commander replied.

"Not sure, nothing much ourselves...but that's why you're out here. We have a contact, he wouldn't give his name, only told us to meet him in the Sierras, and gave us an approximate location."

"And that isn't in the _least _bit suspicious to you, Elliot?"

"It's all we have, Alex, at least until we can figure out what's going on around here..."

Alex sighed.

"Now listen, Commander, don't worry about all this crap going on around the country. We may be in hot water, and the U.S may not appreciate us, but all we can do is continue operating and doing what we do, and hope and pray that we can win our way back onto the nation's good side."

"I just...I can't believe Mabao won," Alex replied with a sigh, leaning back against the cold steel wall of the Hornet. He was alone in the aircraft, and silence was thick in the air, with the exception of the conversation he was having over the radio with General Elliot, currently on standby with a column of tanks and a platoon of soldiers several miles south of Alex's destination, a base rumored to be operated by the unknown force that had been wrecking havoc to the Terminator Militia and her allies.

"It was imminent," the general replied firmly, "Barry Mabao knows his stuff, unfortunately, and pretty much everyone knew that the election would be a landslide victory for him. Let's just hope he's like every other politician out there, all bark, no bite."

"Given the steps he's taken to make it harder for us to operate, it seems he's more than just hot air."

Silence from Elliot's end for several seconds before, "Don't worry about it, just...meet the contact, figure out what he knows, and get to the extraction point before we launch our attack on the base in two hours, I wouldn't want you caught in the crossfire."

The Hornet lowered in a small clearing, completely encircled by trees, depositing Alex onto the hard, earthen ground before raising to the skies and taking off. Alex watched it disappear beneath the treeline before popping his neck muscles, stretching and moving into the trees. The world was silent, broken only by the occasional breeze moving the leaves in the trees. Even with his night vision activated, it was difficult to see in the dark, and Alex only hoped that the unknown force didn't have patrols this far out. As a deep fog settled over the trees, Alex's navigation was reduced to a crawl, and he stiffened as heard voices. Glancing around he noticed a patrol, composed of a dozen soldiers strolling across the forest trail, chatting to themselves. Alex stepped off the path, seeking cover inside of a cave, going prone and watching, waiting, as the soldiers marched passed, continuing up the trail. Once they were out of range of his hearing, Alex climbed out of cover, turning to face where the patrol had gone, only seeing them by their flashlights scanning the trail ahead as they rounded a corner to the left and disappeared up a hill.

Alex continued down the hill, following the winding trail through the still trees until finally emerging in another clearing, situated on a cliff overlooking the distant city. He paused on the cliff for a few moments to stare at the scenic view before continuing on, back into the trees and following the cliff's edge. It didn't take long before he could see the lights of the enemy compound beneath him. He crouched to the ground, watching as trucks moved back and forth, carrying passenger and cargo between multiple warehouses. To the east of the compound, he could see a small cave running through the hill, parallel to the compound, where he was to meet his contact. Alex stood up, wrapping a cord around a tree, clipping it to his belt as he rappelled down the cliffside, coming to a rest just inside of a cave heading out onto a trail that encircled about twenty feet above the compound. Detaching the clip, he quickly ran to the mouth of the cave, pressing his body against the cool, slick wall as a small, two-man patrol walked passed, shining a light across the cave mouth before continuing up the path. He poked his head out of the cave, turning to his left and watching the guards continue up the path, up to where it forked. They took the left side, curving up into the hills he had rappelled down from. He emerged from cover, taking the right side, which curved down into more caves and subterranean tunnels, and the rendezvous point with his contact.

He entered the caves, the only sounds being the running of a creek snaking throughout the tunnels, and a small waterfall which fed the creek. He ran forward, crossing the creek and going prone, crawling into a small tunnel that descended deeper into the cave, finally emerging after several minutes, in a wide open chamber, looking out upon the compound. Relieving the safety off his silenced AK47, he looked down its ACOG scope, panning across the chamber, quietly creeping forward and searching for his contact, ready to fire if needs be. "Don't move," a voice, cold and quiet, spoke from the shadows, and he stiffened, abruptly turning to his left and aiming his weapon at a small, quadrupedal, silhouetted figure crouching in the shadows. "Commander Alex Vaughn?" the male voice asked.

"Who's asking?" the Commander replied, finger pressing the trigger lightly.

"A friend..." and the figure emerged from the shadows. Alex slowly lowered his weapon, jaw dropping at the sight. A small purple dragon, approximately two feet tall and four feet long, with a golden belly, claws, spines, and curved horns, orange wing membranes, folded against his slender body, and amethyst eyes that held with them a sort of innocence, but also a certain depth of experience...he was young, but he was well versed in combat and warfare.

"Who are you?" Alex spat.

"My name is Spyro," the dragon replied, "You are Commander Vaughn, right?"

Alex switched on the safety, lowering his weapon as he stood tall, "You my contact?"

Spyro nodded, "Yes."

"Never seen a dragon like _you _before."

"I come from the Realms," he replied, "It's a little nation, near Antarctica, I'm one of the last of my species."

"Why did you call me here?"

"I need your help..." he began, stepping forward.

"Elliot said you had details on what we're dealing with?"

"Well...no, not really. I mean, I've had to deal with them...but I don't know _who _they are."

Alex groaned at the dragon's betrayal, "What the hell do you want from me?"

Spyro, seemingly timid, stiffened, trying to act brave, nodding towards the open wall of the cave overlooking the compound. As Spyro headed towards the opening, Alex followed him, weary of any sign of further betrayal from the purple dragon.

"Down there," he replied, "Over by the second truck in that convoy."

Alex stood beside him, crouching as he removed his binoculars from his waist, zooming in on the aforementioned truck. Surrounded by those black body-armored soldiers, was a tall, thin man in a dull green uniform, wearing an officer's cap, hands crossed behind his back, watching as two of the grunts forced open a cage in the back of the truck, throwing a small, dark purple, almost black, dragon with ruby-red belly scales, turquoise eyes, and six, curved back, ivory horns, to the ground. The creature seemed to be of the same species as Spyro, but was very slender, curvy, and overall feminine in appearance, lacking spines, with a curved tail blade.

"Who the hell...?" Alex began.

"Her name is Cynder," Spyro continued, "She's a friend of mine..."

"What happened?" Alex asked, focus never breaking from the dragoness, who was being kicked and beaten into submission, protesting against her captors as the body-armored grunts dragged her towards a storage barn across the compound, the officer tailing the group.

"These guys attacked my home, the Dragon Temple, the unofficial capital of the Realms and home to the last four dragons of my species, known as the Guardians, as well as Cynder and myself. The Guardians and I managed to repel them...but not before they captured Cynder. I followed them all to a small base just outside the country, then spied on them, found out where they were going, and contacted your General Elliot."

"So what am I supposed to do?" and Alex finally lowered his binoculars, replacing them on his belt.

"Can you help me save her? Maybe you can find out who these guys are in the process."

"Listen...eh...Spyro...you seem like a nice guy and all, but I didn't come here to save your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfr..."

"It doesn't matter!" Alex hissed, "Fact of the matter is, I didn't come here to save her. Besides, my boys are going to attack the base in an hour, there will be nothing left of it standing once they're through with it."

Spyro's eyes widened, "Please! You need to save her! We can't just...we can't let her die!"

"Maybe you should have been more specific about what the mission was."

"I'm sorry...but I didn't think you'd be willing to help me if I said I needed your help in saving her."

"If you knew it was the same force the Terminators have been dealing with, I bet you we would have," and Alex turned towards the way he had entered, preparing to head back. Spyro, not moving from his position, only rotated to keep an eye on the Commander.

"Please, Commander...I mean...I know that I'm practically a nobody to you guys...but I thought that if anyone could help me, it was you. You guys are like heroes to us, even if we're not officially allies."

Alex closed his eyes, biting his lip as he looked down to the ground, pausing in place. With a sigh, he rotated on his heels, turning to face the purple dragon and stomping towards him, "Listen, I'm not some rescuer here to save some random fucking dragon, risking _my ass _in the process, since Elliot is going to _completely _wipe this base off the face of the map!"

"I promise you, I will never disturb you again if you'll help me...just this once, please?"

Silence fell between them for several moments before Alex, swearing, finally submitted, "Fine, I'll save your goddamn girlfriend."

"Thank you..."

"Shut it," he snapped, walking back towards the opening and attaching a rappel cord to a stalagmite. Clipping the cord to his belt, and preparing to descend, he was startled by a loud bang. Glancing around, he looked to the south, where a large white orb was arching into the sky, "Oh no..." Alex began.

"What is that? What's going on?"

"Elliot..."

The orb reached the peak of its ascent, exploding with a brilliant flash of light that nearly blinded him and his companion. In an instant, Alex was aware of the music of artillery, mainly the 15cm _Nebelwerfer _41s utilized by the Terminator Militia, filling the air, as pillars of dirt and debris rocketed into the dark skies, now alight with flares. An alarm sounded on the base, and as the base's soldiers deployed into action, Alex could hear Elliot's voice over a megaphone, "_Wakey, wakey you sorry sons of bitches_!"

Alex depressed the button on his radio, "Elliot! What the hell are you doing, mate!? We're still down here!"

"Well hurry your asses to the LZ, I'm tired of waiting, did you meet your contact?"

"Yes! Yes! But for Chrissakes, you weren't supposed to strike for another hour!"

"What did he say?"

"It was a ruse! He only said he knew something to bring us down here so we can rescue his girlfriend, call off the attack!"

"What the hell!? You tell me who he is so I can wring his ass and hang him from the fucking streets! We're not some goddamn errand boys for a horny kid's love quest!"

"Dammit, Elliot! We're heading down there right now! Call off the attack!"

"Too late! Either _you _get out of there, or I'm burying your ass with the rest of these assholes!" Elliot roared, and he severed the line

"What's happening?" Spyro asked, alarmed.

"Looks like we better get our asses in gear," Alex replied, and he rappelled down the side of the hill and into the brush running along the perimeter, just inside of the compound's walls. Spyro landed beside him, and Alex ran for cover behind a building, Spyro cowering beside him as he watched the black-armored soldiers run out of the apparent main facility of the compound, racing south to meet Elliot's forces, blasting down the gates.

"Cynder!"

"We'll find her," Alex reassured, "Don't worry. Stay close to me, though, don't engage these guys. Let Elliot distract them while we move towards that barn."

Spyro nodded vigorously, "I'm right behind you, Commander Vaughn, sir."

"Call me, Alex," and he left cover, running to the next piece, an idling truck. Once the coast was clear, Alex sprinted across the asphalt lot, hiding behind a stack of fuel barrels leaning against the side of the barn. Once Spyro joined him, they saw several soldiers spilling out of the main facility, closing and locking down the structures dotting the compound. Alex nodded for Spyro to follow him, and they slipped into the barn doors, slightly ajar, hiding behind several stacks of hay bails. They heard a man shouting, but the words were inaudible beneath the explosions and chaos outside. Once the barn doors slammed shut and bolted, Alex and Spyro left cover, hugging the neatly ordered stacks of hay bails as they approached the center of the barn, where the officer, along with a group of ten to fifteen armored grunts, were standing in a circle around a bound Cynder, holding her at gunpoint.

"Who did you call!" the officer roared, "_TELL ME_ you whore!"

"I didn't call anybody! I swear!" Cynder exclaimed, sounding near tears.

"_DON'T LIE TO ME!_" the officer roared, abruptly smashing the butt of his pistol across her cheek, "I will make you pay for fucking with the _Maxia_!"

"Cyn...!" Spyro began, but his exclamation was cut short as Alex forced his hand against the dragon's mouth.

"Quiet!" Alex hissed into his ear, "We're in no position to engage!"

As Alex removed his hand from the dragon's mouth, Spyro said, in a panic-edged whisper, "But...Cynder! We need to save her!"

"I know," Alex replied coldly, leaving cover and racing towards a set of wooden stairs ascending towards an observation room positioned at the edge of the barn, looking out over the entire structure, above the contents of the barn, almost entirely hay bails. Alex slipped inside the observation room, spying two guards standing side-by-side, their backs to the door, watching the scene unfold below. Alex stood behind them quickly smashing their heads together as they slumped to the floor, unconscious. Alex went prone here, Spyro joining him as the Commander crawled beneath the desk, glancing out through a hole in the rotting wooden wall.

"I know you called somebody!" the officer hissed, "If you didn't, then why are we being attacked? Who did you call!"

"I'm telling the truth...I didn't call anyone!"

"Bullshit!" the man roared, beating her again and again, enunciating his words with kicks to her side and stomach "Don't! Lie! To! Me!" as he continued his relentless onslaught, Cynder began to tremble, glowing a faint red.

"Oh no..." Spyro began, eyes widening, "Oh please no..."

"What's happening?" Alex asked.

Suddenly, with a vicious, pained roar, Cynder snapped free of her binds, becoming completely enveloped in a column of shadowy mist. The guards opened fire on her, but the bullets merely passed through the mist, leaving the she-dragon unharmed.

"What in the bloody hell..." Alex replied, in awe.

"This isn't good..." Spyro remarked, voice small.

Once the mist cleared, Alex eyes widened in shock as he saw Cynder, now a massive, fierce dragon, almost twenty feet tall, at least half that long. Her horns had grown much longer and thinner in size, her eyes were now glowing a fierce yellow, and her slender body was much more sleek and streamlined. She roared, breathing a jet of deep violet flame into the air, igniting the ceiling of the barn, ten feet above her head, before snapping her head down, engulfing the guards in flames, as well as the surrounding hay bails. The officer fell back, shielding his face with his arm as Cynder's jaws snapped forward, severing the top half of the officer's body before she spat it out into the flames across the barn. With a violent roar, she exclaimed in a cold, malicious tone, "You fools think you can destroy _me!?_ I dare you to try!"

She stormed towards the back of the barn, slamming into it and busting through the wall into the fenced in lot behind it.

Alex and Spyro stood, the Commander's jaw dropped and eyes wide, stunned speechless.

"We need to stop her before she hurts herself or someone else!"

"What the hell...I mean...what is that...?"

"It's her dark form!" and Spyro rocketed out of the observation room, down the ladder and towards the breach in the wall, crying out and falling back as one of the rafters cam crashing down in flames nearby.

"Dark form!?" Alex exclaimed, snapping from his paralysis as he sprinted down the stairs to join the small purple dragon, "What the actual fuck, man!?"

"It's hard to explain!" Spyro replied fiercely, "Just...trust me! We need to stop her!"

Alex followed Spyro across the burning barn, mantling over the breach and into the lot outside. Cynder stood at the far end of the large, expansive, fenced-in plot of land, her back to them. As another barrage of flares exploded in the skies, she craned her neck to the sky and let loose a powerful roar, sending a tongue of that reddish-purple flame into the skies.

"Cynder!" Spyro called.

"What the hell!?" Alex exclaimed, staring at the purple dragon, aghast, "Are you fucking insane!?"

The dragoness stiffened, abruptly spinning around to face the duo. She lowered her head, snorting as puffs of flame and smoke shot from her nostrils, "Well, well, well, so you two think you can stop me, too? I'm surprised at you, Spyro."

"Cynder! Please! Settle down! We mean you no harm!" Spyro exclaimed, "Please! Settle down!"

"_I WON'T LET YOU BEAT ME DOWN!_" she roared, lowering her head like a bull and charging forward.

"Cynder! _STOP!_"

Alex dove into Spyro, knocking him out of the way of her path as she slammed into the barn, her horns stabbing into the walls and becoming stuck. As she broke free, they fell back. "C'mon, Spyro!" Alex roared, "We need to get out of here!"

"I'm not leaving Cynder behind!" he exclaimed, "I can talk her out of this! Just trust me!"

"I don't even fucking know you!" Alex replied with irritated laughter, "Why the hell would I trust you? How do you know you aren't working for _them_!?"

"Please...just trust me!" Spyro pleaded, "I can help her!"

"You better make your magic work quickly then! Because I'm not gonna sit around and let this bitch put me in the ground! I'll put a bullet between her fucking eyes..."

"_HOW DARE YOU!_" Cynder hissed, launching a ball of flame towards the Commander's direction.

He rolled out of the way, firing towards her. She cried out against the flurry and raised a wing against her face, ignoring the pain as the rounds tore through the pink membranes in small bursts of deep red. With her wing still raised, she charged towards them again, warranting another somersault out of the way as Alex continued attacking her unguarded rear.

"Don't shoot her!" Spyro exclaimed in terror.

"Got any other bright ideas then? I'm open for suggestions!"

"Let me talk to her!"

"She'll burn us to a fuckin' crisp before she'll let us talk to her!"

"I know I can talk her out of it! Just give me a chance."

"You have sixty fucking seconds!" Alex spat, adopting a defensive stance as he worked to dodge the rampaging dragoness' attacks.

"Cynder! Don't do this! We're trying to help you!"

"_LIAR!_" she roared, turning her attentions towards the purple dragon, "_YOU BETRAYED ME!_"

"Listen, I'm sorry I couldn't help you sooner, Cynder...but these guys...they're too strong, there was too many...there was no way I could stop them alone! I had to get help!"

"THIRTY SECONDS!" Alex spat, rolling out of the way of another fireball launched from Cynder.

"Please, Cynder...trust me...trust _us_."

She stopped in place, staring down at the purple dragon, breathing heavily, eyes flashing with a murderous glare.

"We're here to help you...we're not a threat, I'm going to get you out of here...and I'm going to protect you...I promise."

"TEN SECONDS!"

That homicidal fire in her eyes died down as she slowly relaxed her tense muscles, collapsing to the ground. Once more, the shadowy mist enveloped her body, shrinking in size before it finally sank into the ground, dissipating. Cynder lay sprawled out on the ground, small once again as Spyro walked over to her, gently nuzzling her onto his back.

"Spyro..." she weakly began, "I...I'm sorry..."

"No, Cyn, _I'm _sorry..."

"You done? Yes? Good! Now can we _PLEASE _get the hell outta dodge!?" Alex roared, stomping towards them, out of breath.

Spyro turned to face Alex, nodding firmly, "Let's go."

"Fucking A!" and the Commander sprinted towards the fence, mantling over it as he sprinted back to the front of the barn, racing towards the truck they had sought cover behind earlier. Ripping open the door and climbing into the driver's seat, Alex ordered to the two dragons, "Climb in! We're getting' out of here!"

Spyro opened the door, climbing into the shotgun seat, gently lowering Cynder to the floor of the vehicle as he slammed it closed. Shifting the truck into drive, Alex slammed the throttle to the ground. The truck leaped forward, speeding forward at its fastest.

"Hold on! It's gonna get bumpy!" Alex exclaimed, and he roared as he smashed through the plank perimeter fence at full speed, driving at a forty five degree angle along a slope before ramping onto the dirt road behind Elliot's forces.

Alex dialed the CB radio to Elliot's frequency, "Right, there's a truck heading southbound, coming your way, don't shoot...it's us."

"Roger that, Vaughn. Helluva way to practice driving, eh?"

Alex grinned, "No shit. Hope you got room, cause I got passengers."

"How many?"

"Two."

"Think you'll be fine then."

After several minutes, they reached the staging grounds where Elliot stood near Alex's Hornet, waiting patiently for the Commander's arrival. Alex parked the trucked beside the helipad, climbing out of the vehicle and walking around to the other side, opening it and allowing Spyro to hope down. Alex reached down to the floor of the truck, gently picking up Cynder and placing her across his shoulder, carrying her to his Hornet, struggling beneath her weight, Spyro trotting along nervously behind him.

Elliot grinned widely, taking a drag from his cigar and crouching to the ground, "Well, who do we have here?" he said.

"My name is Spyro," the dragon replied firmly, and he nodded towards the semi-conscious dragon strewn across Alex's back, "This is Cynder...my friend."

Elliot sidestepped out of the way, allowing Alex to lower Cynder to the floor of the Hornet. As Alex climbed in, Spyro climbed in beside them, and Elliot, still outside leaned in the doorway of the machine, arms crossed on the floor, "The hell are you expectin' to take these dragons, Vaughn?"

"To Cartoon City," the Commander replied, "Least until I can get them back to the Realms."

"The Realms?"

"Aye," Alex nodded, "A little antarctic nation that they hail from."

Elliot chuckled, flicking his cigar to the rocky ground, "Thought you were gonna recruit 'em into your ranks."

"That's up to them," Alex replied.

Spyro, suddenly interested, turned to face the Commander, laying back against the wall of the Hornet, drinking from his canteen, "Would we really be able to?"

Finishing his drink, Alex screwed the cap back on, replacing the canteen on his belt, "Sure, why the hell not. Would you want to?"

Spyro nodded, "To join the Terminator Militia? It'd be like a dream come true."

"What if I extended an offer to join Alpha Company?"

Spyro stiffened, "W...would you really?"

"Course, you think you got the stuff for it?"

Spyro nodded enthusiastically, "Yes I do, very much so."

"Maybe Cynder could join along with you, huh?" and the Commander chuckled.

"I'm sure she would."

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna sign her up until she can give me a yay or nay herself."

"See you back in Cartoon City, Vaughn."

"Yup, good luck dealing with these assholes."

"Oh, you know it, boy," and Elliot chuckled, straightening as he slammed the door shut, smacking the wall of the Hornet, signaling takeoff.

"Don't get too comfortable," Alex said, "We'll be back at home in a few minutes."

Early the next morning, Alex stood outside Suite 2 of Club Camelot's penthouse floor, knocking on the door. Spyro sleepily opened the door, Cynder standing behind him. "You guys ready?" the Commander asked.

"For what?" the dragon asked.

"If you two are gonna join Alpha Company, I need to take you both down to the command center to sign up, fill out paperwork, shit like that."

Once Alex and Elliot had gone through the paperwork required for the two dragons to gain membership, and Alex sent them to the training grounds deep within the military district for the start of their B.M.T, General Elliot pulled the Commander aside, asking, "So...I've never seen you so anxious to get someone into Alpha Co...usually you're the most hesitant son of a bitch I've ever seen to allow rookies into your little clique...what changed?

"What do you mean?" Alex asked.

"Mean exactly what it sounds like, Vaughn. You are usually never so adamant to gain new members into Alpha Company...what makes these two so different?"

The Commander shrugged, and after a few moments of silence, as he and Elliot watched the two dragons embark upon their first day of training, he finally said, "I see something in them...Spyro especially."

"Like what?"

Alex shrugged again, "Not sure...but it's something that, to be honest, I haven't seen since Rapid joined way back when. I think they'd both make good leaders...the kind of leadership I see in Spyro is especially impressive...might even make him my second-in-command, or wing-second in the Commander's Wing...he has to prove himself worthy, first, but I don't think he'll have too much problem with that."

"You looking to get him into the High Command?"

"If I can," Alex replied, "I could really use someone like him...like both of them to be honest."

"Ah, so you're gonna prep them _both _for admittance into the High Command."

Alex nodded, "Yeah, maybe even will put him through our experimental Gauntlet program, I've been wanting to run it myself, in all honesty, just to see if all the money, time, and effort we've put into it will pay off or not."

"About the Gauntlet..." Elliot suddenly began, leaning against the side of a building, removing a cigar from his olive drab, front jacket pocket and slipping it into the corner of his mouth, producing a lighter from his the pocket of his olive drab slacks, "First and second rounds of testing have yielding incredible results. It's still got a few bugs to work out, the VR is still a little touchy, and some of the programming is buggy, but we have the best of the best working on it."

"You think you'll get it complete before Mabao severs our ties with the Pentagon?"

"Not sure about _that_, but if worse comes to worse, I'll put Fox and Bleu on the team, they're both really good at scouring through code and programming shit. Don't worry, we'll get it operational, perfecting the experience will take some time, obviously, but it'll get done, I promise you."

"Good," Alex replied, smiling, "If all goes according to plan, the Gauntlet will revolutionize the way the military is trained...it'll _really _set our B.M.T program above the others out there, we might even be able to overthrow the U.S for best military training in the world."

"Just so long as the U.S doesn't get their hands on the Gauntlet...the last thing we need is to be forced to go up against enemy soldiers with the same damn level of training and experience as we have."

"We have the whole facility tucked away nice and deep beneath the ground, only the team working on the project, Alpha, and myself know where it is exactly...no one else does, so even if the U.S _does _get their hands on it, which is only a matter of time if we start moving _all _of our forces to the Gauntlet for training...they won't be able to know our little secrets to make it work."

Alex nodded, "Sounds good to me...also, there was something else I wanted to ask of you."

"Sure, what do you need?"

"If we _do _find ourselves in a war against Mabao...I wanted to talk to you about potentially opening up access to the mutation serum for _everyone _in the Terminator Militia.

Elliot stiffened, "Really? Aren't you afraid you'll run into another situation like what happened with Jazz? I thought that's why you were opposed to anyone outside of Alpha getting access to the serum."

"I am..." and Alex sighed, "Unfortunately, we're kinda in a bind here. If we find ourselves in a full-blown war, if we hope to have a chance to come out on top minus one of our major allies, we need to put our soldiers, strength-wise, training-wise, and experience-wise, above the opposition. The Gauntlet will help with that, as will our _normal_, notorious level of B.M.T, but if we can administer even very minor doses to recruits, say after their graduation from boot camp, we can make them heavily resilient to anything and everything we may face. Put an army of juggernauts against an army of your standard United States grunts, and our chances of success will look very good."

"You must remember, too, Alex," Elliot began, "That training is only half of the battle. To produce a truly efficient and effective army, you need a good leader...which means that you, and the rest of Alpha Company, will have to _really _step up your efforts to keep morale high within your ranks, and lead your soldiers to victory. If we find ourselves in a war, we are going to suffer one hell of a blow to morale, that's a given, but what can decide between total defeat and a glaring victory, is whether their leader, their commander, is there to catch them and really work to restore morale and keep it high. Morale is another important part to decide a victory in war, strength in numbers means jack squat if they are ill-equipped, ill-trained, have a piss-poor leader, and _espirit de corps _is low or nonexistent. Study your history, study military history, learn from the tried and true strategies of past commanders, both failures and victories, and use these to craft a winning strategy. Outnumbering the enemy and defeating them with sheer numbers means nothing without strategy. At the best, the outcome might be a Pyrrhic victory, at worse...well...remember Charity Hill."

Alex frowned, his aura taking on a dark and somber tone, "How can I forget."

"Numbers don't mean everything, there have been many battles won by strategy, not strength, in the past...look at the Battle of Thermopylae. 300 Spartans with a few allies, versus an army of Persians that outnumbered the Spartans exponentially...and the Spartans _still_, against all odds, reigned victorious."

Alex nodded, "Yeah, I get it, be a good leader, keep the people happy, and work strategically."

"I still suggest that you research some of the most legendary battles in the history of warfare, learn from the mistakes and strategies of their commanders and armies, and I mean, go further then World War II in your research."

"You know me, Elliot, I do that kind of research in my free time anyway."

Silence fell between them as they watched the recruits head out on formation, and Elliot asked, still looking forward, towards where the recruits had disappeared, "You really think they'll make good additions to Alpha?"

"Oh yeah, most definitely," the Commander replied, "I have faith in them."


	6. Chapter V: Tartarus

_**Chapter V**_**:**

**-''Tartarus''-**

**-Cartoon City, Montana-**

**-**_**10 February 2009**_**-**

**-**_**1117 Hours**_**-**

Alex walked across the concrete parking lot of the command center with the rest of the High Command, as well as Spyro and Cynder. He moved with a noticeable limp and was using his gilded cane, crafted to look like an Eastern dragon wrapped around a wooden pole, with the head of the dragon serving as the cane's handle, for support, as the arthritis in his leg, a result of getting trampled in a stampede in Africa seven years earlier, was acting up. "I don't like this at all, man," Piermont began, "All this BS with this 'mysterious', unknown force. Do we even know what we're dealing with?"

"Their leader said that they were called the _Maxia_," Spyro replied, walking to Alex's left, with Cynder to _his _left, and the female dragon nodded in response.

"_Maxia_?" Piermont snorted, "The hell kinda name is _that_? Yet...it sounds...somehow familiar..." and for a moment he almost seemed concerned and worried.

"I've been doing some research on it," Alex replied, "The _Maxia _have been around for ages, though this is a definitely unique incarnation of them."

"Care to share, brainiac? Don't really feel like delving into your living, labyrinthine, hellish nightmare of a mind for elaboration."

"I prefer the term 'purgatory', and the _Maxia_, actually called the '_Maxian _Brotherhood', is a little cult that protests usual first world problems, like governments, wars, weapons, shit like that. They're all bark and no bite though, pretty much harmless."

"Kayden..." Piermont began, "So tell me then, _Alexis_, why are they friggin' _shooting _at us, and if they _are _behind these attacks on U.S cities...why? Sure don't seem like they're harmless to me..."

"They advocate a peaceful elimination to religion, government, and warfare...why they're all of a sudden taking up arms and shooting at everybody and every_thing_ is beyond me. That's why I said that this is a unique incarnation."

"Radical sect?"

"Likely."

"Heh...maybe they've got ties to Mabao..." and Piermont smirked.

"Wouldn't necessarily discount that, Pierre."

"So Piermont..." Spyro began.

"Hell you want, Spyro."

"Why do they call you 'Pierre'?"

"Cause it makes me sound sexy, it's like _omelette du fromage_. Everything sound sexier in French."

"Omelet do what now?"

"_Omelette du fromage_, it's French for cheese omelet, but doesn't it sound positively sexy?"

Spyro only shook his head with a sigh, "I can already tell you're the 'special' one of the group."

"Oh fuck you, Spearow."

"Spearow? Really?" Alex scoffed, shaking his head, "He's a Pokemon now?"

"Maybe...I dunno...that's just what they would call 'em in Spain."

"Well, we're not Spanish."

As they entered the command center, they found Elliot arguing with a young officer. "You called for us?" Alex interrupted. The furious general took one look towards the Commander before turning to face the officer again, pointing towards the door. The officer, a 2nd Lieutenant by his insignia, ran off, and Elliot headed towards the war room, the rest of the High Command in tow. Upon entering the room, they all took a seat at the stained oak conference table, with Elliot, as per usual, at its head.

"I wanted to go over your little _prot__é__g__é_over there, Alex."

"Which one?"

"Both, Spyro especially."

"What about him?"

"Been watching him...he's pretty good. Learns quickly, isn't afraid to get his hands...or paws rather...dirty. Cynder's pretty damn good herself. So, I figured I'd make a little proposition for you."

"Sure."

"The Gauntlet may be operational in the coming months, figured that you'd like to let them be one of its first victims...I mean subjects."

"We're gonna go through it, too," Alex replied, observing his fingernails, "Hell, we'll go with them."

"Figured we could also provide a bit of compensation to entice the newbloods to try and succeed. Pass the Gauntlet beneath the time limit, possible guaranteed entrance into Alpha Company?"

Alex glared at the general, "Really, Elliot?"

"Oh! C'mon now, Alex, you've got plenty of room in your little...clique."

"I prefer my clique the way it is, thank you."

"You need more humans in your clan, I'm serious," Elliot sighed, "Talking animals is cool and all, but it is _severely _dicking with your development, Commander."

"How so?"

"Oh, you mean beside the fact you are, if the Internet records are correct, looking up a lot of pornography on bestiality and...what the hell do they call it...zoophilia?"

"Hell does that have to do with anything? And how would _you _know if I was or not?"

"Internet records show up browsing history, and on our network, I can also see which computer looked up what. That's beside the point though, point is, lack of human contact isn't normal for...well...a human. For a human entering puberty, especially a human _boy _entering puberty, I wouldn't be surprised if lack of human contact, instead encircling yourself in talking animals, could potentially warp your sexual development."

"Okay, and why is my sexual development or fetishes important to you?"

"Because _I _don't want to have to stomach through the paperwork and legality bullshit if _you _decide to go full-fledged zoophile on me. I already know that you're more attracted to women of the more...furred or scaled variety...than your own damn species, that's not right."

"Once more, why does it _matter _to you. I _have _a moral compass you know."

Elliot groaned, "Moving on...the Gauntlet is supposed to be the ultimate test of a recruit's potential. That means that the recruit needs to want to do their very best. The Gauntlet is a timed experience, figured if they can pass beneath the time limit, which I guarantee will be _very _difficult anyway, they should be properly rewarded for such a grand achievement. The Gauntlet is a test designed to fail, but you know there _will _be people who pass it...we just gonna pass it off?"

Silence fell between them for several moment before Alex, with a sigh, finally submitted, "Fine, grunts who pass the Gauntlet can _apply _for Alpha Company, but all applications go through _me _first. What if members of Alpha pass the Gauntlet, since it will be a universal test that _all _soldiers go through?"

"Jack squat. You guys are already getting better treatment than everyone else in this damn army," Elliot grumbled, "And if we agree to that, you better fuckin' promise me that you'll take a non-biased approach on it. I don't want you rejecting an application just because you don't want your little...equilibrium...to become unbalanced."

"I won't," Alex spat, "You really think I'm that narcissistic?"

"Damned if I know sometimes..."

"However, here's my proposition," and Alex straightened in his seat, leaning forward, hands clasped before him, "If a grunt passes the Gauntlet beneath the time limit, he gets a chance to apply for Alpha Company, in which case I, and the rest of my unit, will go over the application to decide if it gets the stamp of approval. But, if a member of _Alpha Company _passes the...eh...unpassable...then he or she gains entrance into the Terminator High Command."

Elliot pondered over it for several moments before nodding, "Sounds pretty good to me."

Spyro elbowed the Commander, "What's the Gauntlet?"

"I'll tell you later."

"Now," Elliot continued, "Onto the _next _order of business..."

"Oh boy..." Alex began with a sigh.

"Here we go," Piermont said.

"I've been reading up on this '_Maxia_', and the more I read, the more I question...are we _really _sure that we're dealing with the _Maxia _here? I mean, these guys are nothing more than bitchy, prissy, spoiled little twigs that are so pissed off at their own failures in life that they want the world to suffer with them."

Alex nodded, "I'm almost a hundred percent sure, the guy said that he was _Maxia_."

"I can testify to that," Spyro replied with a nod, "I was there, too."

"Agreed," Cynder replied, "And that officer said several times that he was _Maxia_, that _they _were _Maxia_."

"Then, I must wonder, when the hell did the _Maxia _decide to grow a pair of balls."

"They didn't," Alex replied, leaning back in his chair again, arms crossed.

"What do you mean? You just said..."

"I _know _what I just said," and he leaned forward, "But they didn't _grow _a pair of balls. They were _given _them."

"By who?"

"You want my honest opinion? President Barry Mabao."

Elliot broke out into a bout of wild laughter, "Oh that's a good one, really. I know Mabao is an asshole that wants us gone and out of the picture, but I _highly _doubt that the cocksucker is involved with the _Maxia_, I mean...he's way too high and mighty to put himself as low as the _Maxia _are."

"Hey, I'm just pitching in my two-cents. It would make sense."

"How so?"

"Mabao wants us gone," Piermont began, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers, "What better way to do that than to try and destroy our rep?"

"That's one _hell _of a task, Pierre," Elliot began, walking around the table, "I mean, we're so damn big, and so highly respected, that I doubt it would work."

"But it has," Piermont emphasized, pointing at the general with his cigarette, "Take a look on the friggin' television! Did you forget that the US is rebelling against us?"

"...You've got a point," Elliot submitted, "But still, how and why the _Maxia _of all things?"

"He's gotta have some kind of beef with them," Alex stated, "Maybe he was one of their members once upon a time? Possibly, even, a higher up, one of the cult leaders."

"Even if he was, what they're doing is in direct violation of _all _of the _Maxian _Brotherhood's tenants," Elliot grunted.

"They're changing with the times?" Piermont suggested, "I mean, maybe they realize that there's no way in hell they'll be able to succeed unless they take up arms against us?" 

"Or maybe they've done their homework and seen that we're the biggest threat, so if they can remove _us _out of the equation, they can achieve their mission of world domination...or whatever...I don't fucking know," Alex added.

"So, what's this gotta do with Mabao again?"

"Maybe Mabao is in bed with the _Maxia_, and he's using them to discredit us like 'No-Tongue' tried...and failed...to do during the LKA Conflict? Difference here is that Mabao is in a _much _higher position than 'No-Tongue' ever was or could hope to be, and he's respected a helluva lot more than that crazy bastard was, also," Alex said.

"So what's Mabao doing so differently that 'No-Tongue' failed to do?"

"Besides using his charm to sway the public...oh...and _not _acting like a friggin' psychopath. Who calls himself 'No-Tongue' for a codename unless every light in your head ain't necessarily on, or you...y'know...don't have a tongue? Given how much the old boy liked to talk, I don't think he was absent a fleshy organ in his mouth. Take that however you will."

"It's possible, too, that by ordering the _Maxia _to attack US citizens and framing the attacks on us, it could provide some proof to back up his statements. 'No-Tongue' was a moron, using that whole bullshit with the training accident to nail Alex's balls to the wall, it was proof that had absolutely nothing to do with the public, and had no effect on them," Piermont interrupted, "With these attacks on US cities, all of a sudden shit just got a helluva lot more personal. Make the attacks look like it was our doing, and the public will fear they're next. If they see the attacks mirror obsolete methods _we've _used, they'll think it's us. Get a big wig like, oh I dunno, the _President _of theUnited _FUCKING _STATES, to confirm we're behind these attacks, and all of a sudden, we're boned, simple as that."

"Eh..." Elliot replied, scratching the back of his head, unlit cigar in the corner of his mouth, "I don't know...not enough evidence to really support one way or the other...as much as I _really _don't want to, we'll have to wait for more evidence before I can act here."

"Really?" and Alex was furious now, "How many more innocent people need to die? How many more beatings does our rep have to take before you'll finally _do _something about this!?"

"I'm sorry, Vaughn," Elliot replied in a furious tone, "But my loyalties don't _100%_ lie with you. I'm as much of an American patriot as I am a Terminator, and, unfortunately, I still have superiors in Washington. They won't let me do _anything _unless I provide them with incontrovertible evidence of Mabao's betrayal and the _Maxia_'s involvement in this whole sordid affair."

"God dammit!" Alex hissed, standing and pounding his fist into the table.

"I'm doing everything I can, Vaughn," and Elliot's voice calmed, "Really, I am...but there's only so much I can do with so little proof. If you can magically pull more evidence out of your ass, then maybe we can build up a proper argument to declare war on the _Maxia _and impeach Mabao. Once upon a time, I ran courts-martial, I know what I'm doing here."

"Fucking hell..." Alex sighed, collapsing back into his seat and placing his head firmly in his hands, rubbing his temples.

"Anyway, we're veering a bit off topic here...we're gonna be holding a summit at a little manor up in the Rocky Mountains in a few days with some Pentagon executives. We're gonna turn over all the Intel we collected from that compound we raided last month, can I expect Alpha Company, or at least the High Command, to be in attendance?"

"Course...not like we got anything better to do."

"Wonderful news!" Elliot replied with a hearty laugh, before instantly sobering, "Hope you know how to be professional, Vaughn. You'll be around _my _bosses, and some of the highest suits in the DoD and the United States military in general."

Alex frowned, "Oh, knowing them, they'll just flip out about my age. Throw the old-fashioned 'you are a lot younger than I thought you'd be Commander Vaughn'. It's what they _always _frigging do."

"I think you'll be surprised. Pretty sure that, by now at least, it's just about common knowledge that the founder of the Terminator Militia is a kid just barely into his teens."

"Great...that's _one _less thing I have to worry about."

"Anyway, that's all I had to say. Dismissed."

"_Help me...somebody...anybody...__" a pained voice calls from the enveloping void._

_Alex opens his eyes, finding himself laying on what feels like a warm, glass-like floor, even though all he sees is blackness. He picks himself up, shaking his head as he looks around, out of the darkness he sees white orbs floating into the air above him. The orbs, they number in the thousands if not millions, and more and more continue to raise from the ground, like smoke, before becoming stationery in the air above him, and he realizes he is looking at a starfield. He glances around in the darkness, now dimly lit in a somehow-greenish hue by the white orbs._

"_Help me..." the voice, very much female, and more beautiful than anything he has ever before, says again, strained and tired._

"_Where are you?" he asks, but there is no response or acknowledgment._

"_Alex..." she whines sadly, "Somebody...anybody...help me..." and she cries out in pain, her exclamations causing the starfield to tremble and adopt a thick, sanguine tint. Once her cries recede, so does the red coloring, and the world fades back into the sickly green it had held before. "Please...I can't go on...I don't want to go on...I want to die...is there no end to the pain..."_

"_I'm coming!" Alex calls in a hushed tone, running forward, trying to find the source of the omnipresent voice, "Just hold on for a little while longer!"_...

...And he shot up in bed, out of breath, long dark brown hair matted to his forehead in sweat. He shook his head, shaking away the nightmare before climbing out of bed and stumbling into the bathroom, flipping on the light and running cold water. Splashing his face, he looked in the mirror, shocked by how well-pronounced his various battlescars were. That voice...it sounded so alien...yet so familiar...had he heard her before? He was suddenly aware of that strange, alien heartbeat, so subtle yet persistent, deep within him. It beat rapidly, and he could tell that whoever it belonged to was in extreme pain. He wished he could help her, relieve her pain however he could...but just as he expanded his mind, hoping to catch the waning thoughts of the unknown presence, it was lost in the sea of heartbeats and consciences of his companions, sleeping soundly. With a sigh, he laid back down again, closing his eyes and awaiting the return of sleep.

The next morning, Alex and Spyro were called by Elliot to meet him in the conference room of Club Camelot. Confused, but nevertheless following orders, the left Suite 1 of Club Camelot's penthouse floor, where they lived with the rest of Alpha Company, and took the glass elevator down to the floor of the military club's rotunda, entering the small, very bland conference room, smelling richly of stale coffee, they took a seat in the leather chairs surrounding the stained oak table, waiting for the general's arrival. The walls and ceiling of the room were a stark white, the floor was covered in a thin layer of deep maroon carpet, and the only sound in the room was the buzzing of the fluorescent tube lights above the table.

"Wonder what's going on..." the dragon began.

"Doubt it's anything that serious," the Commander replied, leaning back and relaxing, "Else he would have brought ALL of Alpha down here."

Spyro grinned, "Maybe it's about your bestiality fetish?"

Alex sobered, growling beneath his breath, before he could respond, the door burst open and Elliot waddled in, the short, stocky fellow's gait more like a penguin's than ever. As he reached the front of the room, taking a seat, he leaned back in his chair, the back of the seat groaning in protest as he thumbed through a dossier he had brought with him, "Sorry to wake you this early, especially for such a menial task, but our resources are stretched thin, apparently, at least, according to the city council, and they need someone to check this out for them for some reason, ASAP."

"Might as well cut the sugar and just give to us hard and dry," Alex replied, sighing and crossing his arms across his chest.

"Very well then..." Elliot began, popping the muscles on his nearly non-existent neck, "Drug bust. Farmer in the Agricultural District just outside the city is supposedly growing pot, and the city wants someone to go stop it." 

Alex scoffed, "Really, man? Out of all the sh..."

"Yeah, I know, it's a lame fuckin' task," Elliot spat, "But the council demands it."

"What a crock of bullshit, mate! Ain't that what the _police _is supposed to do?"

"Yeah, but unfortunately, the police got their hands full with riots sprouting up around the city, a delayed reaction from Mabao's call to arms awhile back. Police are engaged, as are our grunts. Figured you could use this as some kind of training exercise for your _prot__é__g__é_. It's ridiculous and probably not very helpful, but hey, it's a deployment, regardless."

"We're soldiers, Elliot, not cops."

"Well, today, you get to experience what it's like to be a cop. C'mon, Alex, this job is simple enough, just...go in there, find evidence the guy's growing the leaf and get out, easy."

"Fine, we'll do it, but I'm serious, this better not be a recurring thing, or I'm going to be pissed."

"You and me both, Vaughn."

As Spyro and Alex walked through the tall trees swaying in the breeze clustered together in a small forest around the home of their target, the purple dragon sighed, "So, tell me exactly why the city council thinks it's a smart idea to send a _kid _out on a drug bust. That just doesn't seem right to me."

"Wouldn't doubt it's because they've seen me as the founder of the Terminator Militia for the past...however many years it's been since we moved here, even if I am just a fifteen year old kid."

"That's not right, actually, it's really messed up..."

"Yeah, well welcome to the Terminator Militia, weird shit is always going on here, and we're all treated like adults, despite our ages."

"Still...this is police work, more than that, it's a drug bust...you don't send a teen to do an officer's work, let alone drug busts."

"Well, I guess Elliot has the frame of mind that Alpha Company is just a bunch of lazy sons of bitches who sit around and bullshit all day. Which I can't really say is a hundred percent false, but it's not a hundred percent true, either. Yeah we're not deployed nearly as frequently as the lesser companies, but at the same time, we're deployed for the most dangerous scenarios, like if things seem too dangerous for non-mutants, they send _us _in there to clear it up."

"Why?"

"Because of the mutation serum, and the fact it makes us near-juggernauts. We can take and deal a lot more shit than others, regardless of how much of a hardened veteran the 'other' in question is. Oh, and we also live in a lot more luxurious environment than the other companies, even the commanding units, like Elliot himself...I doubt that sits well with him, either. Anything to make our lives miserable or knock us off the illusory high horse."

"Illusory high horse?"

"Yeah."

"What does that mean?"

"You know...like, he _thinks _we're on some kind of high horse, that we're living high and large and set ourselves above everybody else, even though we're not."

Spyro only shook his head, "I can tell you've had a fragmented education."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind."

"I'm serious, the hell did you mean by that?"

"We're here," he interrupted, nodding towards the distant house. It was unassuming, a tiny brick cottage nestled beside a weathered wooden barn, appearing more like a medieval hut than a modern day farmhouse. It was set in a tiny, flat clearing surrounded on all sides by a small forest of trees, and a brook snaked through the front yard, beneath a simple wooden bridge, and back into the forest. Alex hugged the trees, taking the long way around the house and to the other side, heading towards the barn. "What are we doing? Aren't we gonna knock first?" the purple dragon asked uneasily.

"Nonsense, I'm not a police officer, I'm not bound to the niceties. They dragged my ass out here, we're gonna do things my way."

"So...commit breaking and entering...excellent idea. Wonderful way to keep us out of the spotlight when the feds are trying to find a way to nail us to a cross."

"Live fast, die young, tends to be what I do around here, regardless of whether I want to or not."

"Yeah, well keep acting that way, and mutations or not, you won't live through your twenties."

"I'll take my chances."

"You have a deathwish or something?"

Ignoring him, Alex placed the palms of his hands against the back wall of the barn, gently tapping around. Placing an ear to the barn wall, he listened intently, knocking light on the wood again before pulling himself away, placing both of his hands firmly against the wall and sliding it to the right. Once an opening was wide enough for him to enter, he slipped into the darkness, Spyro, whose jaw was dropped, following him inside. They stepped forward into the center of the cluttered room, bails of dried marijuana reached up to the ceiling in the narrow room, which was divided from the rest of the barn by another, full wall, and Spyro asked, "How did you...how did you know this was here?"

Alex sighed, "Same way I knew that confronting the guy directly was a bad idea. He's not home, but his house is booby trapped, ring the doorbell, get a face full of buckshot and splinters. Plus, he's got cameras and a network of tripwires and flares all over the property, unless you want everyone, including our friend, in the area to know we're here, I decided to take the safe route, sorry."

"How do you know this?"

"I call it mental projection, I can kinda...I guess...force my conscience out into the immediate vicinity and map out the area. Neat little trick give to us by the mutation serum, hard to master, but efficient."

"Cool, so when will you teach me how to do that?"

"In time, it's a moderate skill, we start with the easiest ones first, then once you grasp those, we'll work on progressively harder ones until we get to the fun and deadly shit, like teleportation and the complicated elemental shit.:

"Can't wait..." but they fell silent as they heard a vehicle pull up and a car door slam shut. Exchanging anxious glances, they ran deeper into the room, crouching in a dark corner between two stacks of pot, portioned out into fifty gallon bags. Although they couldn't see their visitor, they could hear a man murmuring and muttering to himself, the mumbles occasionally breaking out into a sort of whistle or hum of an unknown song.

"I didn't leave this open..." he swore to himself, "Did I? Damn that woman..."

Alex once more exchanged anxious glances with his protege as they heard the man rummage through one of the wooden crates storing the bags. After several minutes, the door slammed shut, closing them in complete darkness. They waited in the exceedingly hot darkness for several more minutes, ensuring they were alone, before emerging from their hiding place, making their way through the dimly lit chamber and back into the center of the room. One of the crates had been open, the lid carelessly thrown to the side, and a handful of baggies had been removed from within.

"Well shit..." Alex mumbled.

"That was too close..." Spyro sighed, "I'll give Elliot a call, let him know we found the stash."

Alex returned to the door of the hidden chamber, placing his palms against the wall and trying to slide it open once again...it wouldn't budge. "Uh oh..."

"Right," Spyro began, approaching Alex, "Elliot's in a meeting right now, but he said they'll have someone here within an hour or two. We need to get out of here though before we _do _get caught, cause I doubt the guy will be very happy to see us."

"Working on it," Alex grunted, pushing his entire weight against the door, "But this son of a bitch won't open."

Suddenly adopting a worried glance, Spyro asked, "What do you mean it won't open?"

"I mean exactly that," Alex spat, stepping away to catch his breath.

"Lemme try it."

"Good fuckin' luck."

Spyro attempted to open the door, but still it wouldn't budge. "No...oh no, no, no...this isn't good."

"Be patient, we just gotta wait for Elliot to get here, they'll let us out."

"We're stuck in here!"

"Only temporarily," Alex breathed, "Besides, I'll keep trying to get this thing open."

"Use your godmoded strength you're known for, punch a hole in it!"

Alex nodded, "Good idea," however, after several swift, powerful punches that only succeeded in potentially bringing the angry farmer out to attack the intruders, Alex gave up, out of breath and starting to become dizzy from the noxious smell of the plant, the intense, hundred plus degree heat did not help the matter any either, even though it was in the middle of February, the unnaturally warm day coupled with the hot, stale air of the barn, as well as the insulation caused from the structure's contents.

As they walked back to the center of the room, collapsing to the ground to at least try and relax until the Calvary showed to bust them out, they were unaware of a small fire starting in a corner of the barn near the door, as the grower's discarded and forgotten joint ignited a small pile of dried weed spilling out from a torn trash bag. The intense heat, coupled with the noxious, concentrated odors of the drugs around them combined to make them both lethargic, and they struggled to stay awake. In a daze, Alex began to notice what seemed to be shadowy figures moving around the room, an alarm blared internally, and he righted himself, his instincts taking over. He stumbled towards Spyro, who was splayed out on his side on the floor, dozing. "Get up!" Alex whispered in a hoarse voice, "Hurry!"

Groaning, Spyro sat up, shaking his head and yawning, "What...what's going on?"

"We're not alone..."

The purple dragon was instantly on alert as he shot up, creeping behind Alex, "What's going on? Who's here with us?"

"I don't know...but we're not alone..."

Braced to attack, Alex slowly approached where the most shadows were concentrated, on the far wall to the left of the door heading outside. He withdrew his knife, holding it close, horizontally, to his chest, the blade pointing ahead of him, ready to stab if needs be. Once he reached the corner, however, he eagerly looking around, seeing nothing. "_Alex..._" a voice whispered in his ear, and he stiffened, rotating abruptly on his heels and scanning the area for any sign of its source.

"What's wrong?" Spyro asked in a small whisper, standing right behind him, Alex only shushed him.

"_Alex..._"

"Do you hear that?" the Commander asked, weary and nervous.

"Hear what?" the purple dragon asked, shaking his head, "I don't hear anything."

"Somebody's calling my name..."

"_Alex..._"

"Who the bloody hell..."

"You're just hearing things," Spyro chuckled, clearly afraid, but trying to maintain his cool.

"_I am very much real..._" the voice continued in a deep, grisly chuckle, and Alex finally recognized who it belonged to...one of his former _prot__é__g__é_s, a traitor whom he had killed many years earlier, a rabbit named Jazz. Whispers began to emerge, disembodied mumbling, incomprehensible, that seemed to faze in and out, omnipresent, encircling him. He blinked and it vanished. "_Come...here..._"

"No, I'm not," Alex said coldly, and he slowly moved forward, following the sound of heavy breathing, and the whispers to their apparent source.

"Are you feeling okay?" Spyro asked, but he was ignored as Alex suddenly rounded the corner, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. As soon as he did, the whispers and breathing cut off abruptly, and he shook his head.

"Guess the heat's getting to me..."

"Or that smell," and Alex turned to face the purple dragon, whose nose was wrinkling, and he sneezed. His heart slowly settling down, they returned to the center of the room, when in a loud, inhuman screech, a shade version of Jazz manifested before his eyes and rocketed towards and through him. Alex, with an alarmed cry, fell back, slashing blindly. "Alex!" the purple dragon exclaimed, running to his side. Alex lay on his back, propped on his knees, eyes wide and terrified, breathing heavily. "What's wrong!?"

"Did you see that!?" the Commander replied, voice hysterical.

"See what?"

"That shadow figure? He just leaped towards me!" and he looked around anxiously, "Where did that son of a bitch go?"

"Alex," Spyro began in a suddenly knowing voice, "I didn't see anything..."

"Did you at least hear that scream?"

Spyro shook his head, "I think the fumes are getting to you."

"Great," Alex sighed, reluctant at first before finally surrendering, "I'm tripping balls now."

"Just...try to relax," the purple dragon sighed, laying down next to Alex, his back pressed firmly against the boy's left side, "Elliot's guys will be here shortly."

As the day continued to drag by, with both of them becoming increasingly more intoxicated by the minute, Alex would often find random things amusing, even things that had no value of humor in them at all, such as the chirping of birds and the breaths of the wind to his hypersensitive senses. The hallucinations had, thankfully, vanished, at least for now, but he found that various songs were stuck in his head, playing on repeat. The most noticeable, and persistent, of these was one of his 'guilty pleasure' songs, _Lola _by _The Kinks_. He chuckled as he sang along to the lyrics playing in his head, feeling weightless as he saw himself in a third person, drifting through the heavens above the quads, flying high and fully engrossed in the scenery, with that song continuing to loop inside of his head. Around the second verse of the song, Spyro joined him in song, and both of them sang in harmony, all the while Alex envisioned him and Spyro flying side-by-side through the skies above the quads. Suddenly, they abruptly cut off as Spyro kissed him on the lips hard and fast, to which they both succumbed to fits of giggles. An idea suddenly came to mind and Alex jumped up, scurrying over to a nearby stack of bails and climbing it to the top, nearly twenty feet above the ground, "Hey! Check me out!" Alex replied with another bout of giggles, and he fell from the top of the stack, diving into a pile of loose grass.

Just then, as Spyro approached the pile of grass, Alex leaped from within, tackling the purple dragon. They somersaulted together several times until they came to a stop, with Spyro standing over him. "You can't beat me," the dragon replied with a grin, and Alex stunned him by kissing him once again. While Spyro recoiled, still grinning widely, Alex managed to turn the tides, rolling over until he was standing over the purple dragon. "Nuh uh," and they turned over again until Alex was pinned to the ground by Spyro, "Doesn't matter how hard you try, I am the dominant one."

"I thought you were the submissive type?" and Alex chuckled before he was suddenly aware of a warm weight on his belly. He glanced down, finding that the long, slender, hard, red length of the purple dragon had emerged from the protective sheathe on his lower belly, and was now resting on his stomach. For some reason, they both found this highly amusing, and as Alex squirmed free from Spyro's pinning stance, they both collapsed beside one another, giggling at the whole situation. They were startled into silence by a loud knocking on the wall of the barn, and a blinding light filled the room as the door slid open, with Elliot standing beside several police officers, jaws dropped at the stash.

"There you boys are," the general sighed, stepping into the darkness and helping them to a standing position, "You boys look like you are flyin' high."

"Over here," one of the officers said, stomping out the small fire which had burned itself out, shockingly, before igniting the whole stash. "Weed must be too wet to support the flame, you boys got lucky the whole place didn't go up in a ball of fire. It's been smoking though, I wouldn't be surprised if they are completely out of it."

"I'll take them home," Elliot sighed.

"Aww...no more fun time?" Alex pouted.

"No, Vaughn, you fucking pothead, you and your buddy there are going back to Club Camelot. You got this officer?"

"Course we do," another policeman responded, "I'd get out of here before you become one of 'em though, General."

"Ha, I smoked my fair share of ganja back in college, I don't need to fall into that routine again, thank you very much. Let's go," and the general forced them to the door and outside into the cool, windy breeze. The cold wind was slightly sobering, but now a painful headache was beginning to tear through Alex's head, and his heart was pounding powerfully and loudly in his ears. Casting a look over to Spyro, who was barely managing to stay righted, he could tell the dragon was suffering much the same. When they reached Elliot's car, and the general himself opened the back door for them, Spyro clumsily scampered inside, rolling into a comfortable position. Alex could see his genital slit, a thin, dark, slightly bulging slash on his otherwise golden belly, but the object it protected had seemingly long since retreated back into it. Alex climbed into the car, collapsing beside Spyro, dazed and blinded by the piercing light, but silent and exhausted. Elliot slammed the car door shut, climbing into the driver's seat and starting the engine, "Glad you boys are alright," he said, adjusting the mirror above the windshield, "We lost radio contact with you and I was startin' to wonder if that son of a bitch growing this shit got to you."

Alex giggled in response, and Spyro only groaned.

With a sigh, Elliot replied coldly, "Yeah, you two are out of your fucking minds."

A few days later, Elliot parked his rental just outside of the address where the meeting was supposed to occur. Alpha Company climbed out, standing just outside and looking up towards the manor. Confused, Alex turned to face the general, "You sure there's supposed to be a meeting here?"

"Yes," Elliot replied with a grunt, "This is the right address."

The lights of the manor were on, yellow dots in the dark, nighttime skies, but there was not a car...or soul...in sight.

"Maybe we're early?" Piermont suggested, and Elliot glared at him, "What?"

"Let's move, we're running late," the general grunted, and they advanced towards the distant house, all of them looking out for any signs of other attendants to the meeting.

"Surely they didn't walk this far out of the city into the wilderness," Alex began, "We're literally out in the middle of fucking nowhere."

"Maybe they wanted to exercise?" Cynder suggested, grinning.

Alex sighed, and Elliot grunted in response. Once they were on the porch of the two story manor, Elliot extended a hand to knock, but upon coming into contact with the door, it creaked open. Now very weary, Alpha Company readied themselves for a fight, and Elliot reached to his belt, withdrawing a silenced Desert Eagle. They entered the luxurious parlor, navigating through the red carpeted, white-walled halls, past niches set into the wall containing various expensive art pieces, and into the dining hall, set up to look like a meeting hall.

"Where the hell _is _everybody?" Elliot asked.

They were interrupted by a grim chuckle echoing throughout the room. Immediately on alert, they scanned the area, ready to fire upon anything that could appear. A shot rang out through the air, ripping through Elliot's calf and sending him to the ground. "SHIT!" Piermont swore, diving down to drag Elliot into some form of cover from the sniper's assumed direction.

"Well, well, well, looks like Mabao was right. The old bag _would _bring Alpha here like pigs to the slaughterhouse," a male voice rang out through the air, hoarse and sinister.

"All the more fun for us to play with," another male voice, slightly effeminate but still hoarse and sinister, added.

Suddenly, they could hear the sound of a door creaking open, and Alpha Company immediately turned in the direction of the sound, spying two men stumbling out from a closet, one of them wielding a sniper rifle. The sniper was tall, almost skeletal in appearance, with pale skin, bad complexion, square glasses and long, greasy, stringy hair down to his shoulders. He wore a white, long-sleeve, polo shirt and khaki pants, and Alex could make out the shape of a bulletproof vest beneath the shirt. His companion was short, fat, with buzzed brown hair, a beet-red face covered in acne, wearing black slacks and a short sleeve white polo.

"Who the hell are you?" Piermont asked.

The tall man grinned, revealing small, perfect teeth, "I am Observer, and this is my partner, Xerxes, together, we are the Tartarus Unit, and our sole responsibility is to put you in the ground."

Piermont broke out into wild laughter then, and Observer's arrogant grin quickly diminished, "I'm gonna guess that you are the pitcher, Observer, and your buddy is the catcher?"

"Silence, fool!"

"Can't even come up with an original insult, can ya?"

Observer responded by firing a warning shot towards the dragon, who hit the ground.

Even while prone behind the cover of a table, Piermont chuckled, "Ah...queers with an attitude."

"I will smite you where you stand, insect!"

"There we go, NOW we're getting somewhere!"

"Pierre, shut up!" Alex hissed.

"You think you can stop us and prevent your fate?" Observer began, "We took some precautions to ensure you don't get away from here..."

"Oh put a sock in it you motherfucking douchebags!" Elliot roared, "Christ you cheap-shooting faggots are worse than 'No-Tongue'! The hell did you do with my superiors?"

"Don't you get it, Robert," Xerxes began, "This was a setup, your superiors don't want you."

Elliot roared in fury, attempting to stand before abruptly collapsing again once he put pressure on his injured leg. While Crash quickly set to work on patching him up, the rest of Alpha Company began to peek out from cover, firing towards the Tartarus Unit. They evaded the attacks by splitting up, slipping quickly into the shadows and using various pieces of cover in an effort to flank them.

"Mabao must be pretty damn stupid to send in non-mutants to take us on," Piermont snapped, firing towards the table that Observer was hiding behind.

"Soon," Observer began, moving forward, but still out of sight from the human-form dragon and the rest of Alpha Company, "We will be stronger than even you, and when we are, we will take you down before you can hurt anyone else. Karma is on its way to kick your asses, and we're going to be it's deliverers."

"Tough words coming from a coward!" Piermont roared, "How about you come face me like a man instead of hiding behind every little obstacle you can find? Then we'll talk about who's gonna crush who."

"Pierre," Alex, who had been tending to Elliot, began, looking up from the general, "That bullet severed his femoral artery, we need to get him out of here before he bleeds out."

"Well fine then, we'll take care of you sons of bitches _next _time."

"You won't escape!" Xerxes exclaimed, charging from the right and pouncing onto Sonic, who had been guarding the right flank. The hedgehog managed to throw him off before Alpha immediately began to retreat back towards the door, firing towards the pursuing Tartarus Unit. In a flash of heat and light, they were sent to the ground as the whole building went up in flames and the roof and floor above came crashing down, revealing the starlit skies. Healing any minor wounds, Alpha Company recovered, continuing their retreat, and soon, they spilled out of the burning manor, into the front yard. Behind them, Observer, from an unseen location was sniping towards them, and they moved from cover to cover in their retreat back to the winding path leading up from where they had parked their car. Upon exiting the yard and disappearing into the forests, they hurried back towards the car, all of them placing their endurance to its max, with Cherub returning to her natural form in order to carry Elliot. When they reached the car, they quickly piled in, Alex and Piermont helping Elliot into the back seat before climbing in themselves, Piermont forcing his way to the driver's seat where he quickly ignited the engine, shifted the car into drive, and rocketed forwards. They could still hear the cracking of a sniper rifle as Observer fired towards them relentlessly, but thankfully his accuracy was poor.

"This is fucking ridiculous..." Elliot began, alert, but slowly beginning to weaken, "I've been betrayed..."

"Face it, Elliot," Alex said, more bitterly than intended, "We're done for."

Elliot shook his head, in shock, "I just...I never expected _this _to happen..."

"Looks like the feds' beef ain't just restricted to Alpha and friends," Piermont replied with a grim chuckle, "They want _ALL _of us gone."

"I guess you're right..." Elliot said, his voice in shock. Then, suddenly becoming stronger and colder, he hissed, "They will all pay for this shit...I won't give up this easily!"

Alex grinned sadly, "And so, we become one step closer to war."


	7. Chapter VI: The Deluge

_**Chapter VI**_**:**

**-''The Deluge''-**

**-Cartoon City, Montana-**

**-**_**12 February 2009**_**-**

**-**_**1310 Hours**_**-**

"So, I've been meaning to talk to ya."

Alex looked up from his computer, spying Piermont standing before him, the human-form dragon plopping down on the couch beside the Commander.

"What about?" Alex asked, exasperated.

"Some really friggin' weird dreams I've been having, which seem to radiate from _you_."

"How can you tell I'm the source this time?" Alex was understandably irritated, one of the perks of the mutation serum given to members of Alpha Company was the ability to share dreams across the telepathic chatroom they referred to as the 'mutual mind bank'. The depth and detail of the dreams increased as more members contributed to the shared experience, and the ability to share dreams was so incredible that even new members, who arrived after a certain dreamed battle, or whatever the dream was about, had already happened long ago, could experience it as vividly as if they were actually there, even giving them their own vantage point of events that could have transpired. However, it was nearly impossible to identify the original 'source' of the dream, as it was mutually built up and added to by everyone involved.

"Because of the content, it radiates your personality and the kinda shit that gets you off."

"Which means...?"

"I don't know anyone here who could possibly dream about boning a goddamn one-eyed dolphin, and, no offense, but you seem like the kinda guy who'd be into that shit, not taking into account what Elliot has basically proven."

Alex stiffened, "Ah, so that's what you are referring to."

"Yeah, and it's always you and her...at least, I _assume _it's a her...anyway, it's always you and her, him...it...whatever, not anyone else."

"Doesn't mean I'm the one behind it."

"It's a damn good indicator."

"Listen, I don't know where the damn thing is coming from, all right? I've experienced it, too, just let it play out, no sense in making a big fuss over a dream."

"Dude, it happens every single night, and has been for, like, the past month. Frankly, I'm getting tired of watching you get your freak on."

"It's not like I can control it, even if I _was _the source. You know how these things go, it's not the first time something like this has happened. They go away on their own time."

"Usually if they're visions, then they either go away once the actual prophesied event happens, or continue to plague us as flashbacks and nightmares, which tends to be the most common trend. Fact of the matter is, if there is _any _way you can think of to curb the dream, then please do so, cause it's really bugging me."

"Why?"

"I dunno...it just is."

Alex shook his head with a sigh, Piermont only grumbled beneath his breath, standing up, stretching, and heading into the kitchen to grab a drink, scratching his rear in the process.

"You know where everyone else is?" Alex asked, not looking up from his computer.

"Negative, although last I heard, they're checking up on Elliot and Rudy. Which reminds me, when do you think he'll be able to come home?"

"Who?" 

"Both, Rudy specifically."

"I dunno, all I know is that these..._Maxia_...did a number on him in Chicago, he had one hell of a close call. He _seems _to be recovering though, albeit rather slowly."

"So...you think she's real?"

"Who?"

"That dolphin."

Alex fell silent, finally shrugging, "I don't know, man, doubt it. Dreams are weird like that, they give you somethin' completely farfetched and unbelievable for reasons nobody knows. It's the brain's way of processing and sorting information."

"I'm just thinkin' that with the persistence in these dreams, that maybe there's more than what meets the eye, eh? The _only _time dreams persist like this is when it's a vision."

"Cause, y'know, I'm totally gonna go to _Sea World_ and screw a dolphin."

"Hey, who knows?"

"I _highly _doubt it, Pierre."

"Just sayin' man, even _we _can't tell the future."

"You really think I would screw an animal?"

Silence fell from the dragon's end, and he glared at his rider with a knowing glance, "I seem to remember you telling me awhile back that you got kinda hot when you accidentally touched Kiara's pus when we here hunting down the LKA. Plus, I remember some of the things you did for me in our youth, so I can safely say that I would not be surprised in the slightest."

"That was a long time ago, Pierre."

"What? Maybe three? Four years tops? That ain't THAT long ago, man, and if there is _one _thing I know, it's that fetishes don't just magically go away. Now, you can _try _to lie to me all you want, but you know as well as I do that if there is _ONE _person you will never be able to successfully lie to, it's us, the dragon and the rider. We always know when we're lying to each other, one of the perks of the bond. Unless you are referring to the things we did for each other, in which case, that was as little as two years ago. I think the last time was shortly before we left to the Regions, when we finally both decided enough was enough, and you met and started crushing on that Dubois chick."

Alex frowned.

"Right, sorry, I forgot, with all intents and purposes, she's imaginary."

"I wasn't crushing on her."

"Bullshit you weren't. You two were crushin' on each other! I'm surprised you didn't do anything, and that you didn't see that she obviously had the hots for you."

Alex bit his tongue, remembering all too well what he and Zinnia did the night before their separation, but not to the knowledge of the rest of Alpha Company. "I guess I can't really deny it."

"You can try, but we're completely transparent with one another."

"I do miss her though..."

"What _was _between you two anyway?"

Alex shrugged, "I don't know, maybe it's just because I found someone who actually _understands _me for once, someone who knows about my flaws and was okay with them. I didn't want to say goodbye..."

"There are other fish in the sea, it's her damn fault for backing down, she doesn't know what she's missing. You got someone out there for you, just gotta be patient, you'll eventually find each other. It could also be possible that you are _meant _to be with her, just not at this period of time. I mean, hell, look at me. Did you honestly think that when Cherub joined we would end up hitting it off?"

"Yeah..." Alex sighed, "Thanks..."

"You're all right, man. Love ya."

"Yeah...love you, too."

"Am I intruding on something?" Spyro began, and Alex and Piermont both turned to face the rest of Alpha Company, entering the door to the suite.

"Nah, we're just talking," Alex replied with a chuckle.

Piermont feigned a pout, "Aww...we were just about to start with the lovemaking...oh well, the more the merrier!"

Alex glared at his human-form mount before abruptly pushing him off the black, leather couch, straightening in his seat. Piermont only chuckled as he picked himself, and his dropped water bottle, up, sitting on the matching loveseat catercorner to the couch.

Sitting on a polished wooden bench at the base of a bronze statue of a soldier, located in the center of the chilly Town Center district of Cartoon City, a man in a long, dark blue cloak observed the rush hour traffic signaling the end of the lunch hour, sipping from a thermos of warm spiced tea. Screwing the cap back on the cup and laying it on the bricked floor beneath him, he reached into a satchel by his side, removing a pair of binoculars and placing them up against his eyes. In his lap lay a bird watching guide, hiding a cellphone as he looked towards the sky, appearing to spy on the various species of birds roosting around the central hub and heart of the Terminator capital. In reality, he was spying on the patrols walking the streets below, and the snipers up on the rooftops, scouting out security. With a grim smile, he lowered the binoculars, reaching down and beginning to text on his phone, informing his companion of Town Center's high security, "In the cafe on Central, it's hot as balls here."

After several moments, his phone buzzed, and he read the message, "Getting gas on Eastern, it's cold out here, and this bitch here in front of me is even colder," the East Mining District, situated at the extreme east side of the city was at low security, and a dam blocking off a major reservoir located in the mountains defending the east side of the city, keeping it from flooding, was completely free of guards.

The man grinned a toothy smile, revealing tobacco stained teeth, and pushing his square glasses further up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, brushing his long hair aside, he texted back, "Come on over, hon, I'll ready the bath."

His signal to blow the dam sent, it wasn't long before he received another text back, "I'll see you in ten, hugs and kisses."

Nodding to himself, Observer stood up, stretching and packing his things as he calmly walked over to the street, flagging down a taxi.

Alex lay on his back, on his bed, watching the fan above spin around while Mozart played from his computer. There was a light rap on his door, and at his call, it opened, revealing Spyro, who slipped inside.

"What's up?" Alex asked, leaning on his elbows and pausing his playlist.

"Nothing," the dragon replied, quietly closing the door and walking over to him.

Alex sat up, stretching and responding, "Nothing, huh? Just wanted to visit?"

Spyro frowned, then looked towards the door, asking in a hushed tone, "I need some advice..."

"Sure, everything okay?"

He nodded, "Yeah, everything's fine...but...um..." and after several moments, which Alex waited patiently through, he finally asked, "Do you have any tips for...um...talking to girls."

Alex grinned widely, "Crushing on Cynder, are we?"

Spyro blushed, looking away.

"Dunno how to help you, man, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not much of a chick magnet," and he chuckled, "Kinda sad really. Hell, I'll pitch in my two-cents though. I'd start by talking to her, being friendly."

"We're already really good friends."

"Then you're ahead in the game. I guess, be nice to her, y'know, treat her like a queen, play it subtle."

"I've been playing subtle for a couple of years now."

"Keep at it, man. Make her feel special, y'know? Give her gifts, offer to take her out to eat...as friends, not necessarily as an item, then, when the time feels right, talk to her about pursuing something more than just simple friendship."

"When _will _the time be right?"

Alex shrugged, "I don't know," and he suddenly remembered Zinnia, causing him to smile sadly, "All I can suggest, is that when the time comes, you'll know."

"Ha...thanks..." Spyro sighed, and he turned to leave.

"One last thing."

"Yeah?" and he turned to face his CO again.

"If you love her, start making the steps towards a future relationship now, if you aren't already, you don't want to beat around the bush for too long, else someone different comes down the road and steals her heart away..." and he frowned, "Don't make the same mistake I did."

"You did?" and Spyro seemed interested, "What happened?"

"A very old friend of mine, a _very _long time ago, back when I was still a kid in elementary, it doesn't matter though. It was my fault anyway, by the time I finally processed her hints, I had already lost her to another guy. Lucky for you, Cynder seems interested in you, so the cards are in your favor."

"Really?" he asked hesitantly, genuinely surprised.

Alex nodded, "Yeah, you're all she ever talks about when you're not around, she seems to really have at least _some _kind of feelings for you. She and I have talked about you guys and your progress, and whenever your name comes up, she kinda has this little subconscious blush that pops up out of nowhere, she seems to like you, don't blow your chances."

Spyro nodded firmly, appearing to be relieved, "Oh, don't worry, I won't."

Alex smiled, "Good luck at winning your girl's heart, man."

"Thank you."

Alex nodded as Spyro opened the door, slipping outside. Once Alex was alone, he fell back down onto his bed, glancing at the fan once again, finding his thoughts bouncing back and forth between Zinnia and that girl he had been dreaming about lately, and he frowned as he felt that mysterious, disembodied heartbeat once again. With nothing more than a sigh, he closed his eyes and drifted off...

_..."ALEX!"_

His eyes shot open at the scream, and he jumped up to a sitting position as Spyro and Cynder raced into his bedroom, both pale and graven. "What's wrong?" he asked on reflex, and that was when he heard the siren.

"We need to get out of here! Let's go! Hurry!" Spyro exclaimed, rushing back outside.

"Cynder, what's happening?" he asked the she-dragon.

She only shook her head, "I don't know..." and the world quaked beneath them.

"What the hell...? Are we under attack?"

Alex followed Cynder into the hall and back into the living room, where the rest of Alpha Company was hurriedly getting things together. "Alex!" Piermont exclaimed, running over to him, "We got a big problem!"

"What?"

"The whole fucking East Mining District just went under a fifty foot fucking wall of water! People are saying that the dam broke on us!"

"_What!?_"

"Yeah, everybody's getting called to evacuate immediately."

"Where to?"

"Our facility underground, looks like we're going back down."

"What the hell? We should be going _up_ and _away _from the water, not down even lower!"

"Orders from Elliot, bud, now pack up your shit, we're meeting downstairs in the lobby in five minutes."

They raced outside of Club Camelot amidst a sea of soldiers and soldier families, rushing towards the nearest access down to the subterranean railway system snaking beneath the city. The sound of rushing water was loud and booming, even though they couldn't see the source just yet. Alpha Company followed the crowd to a small, brick, single-story building down the street from Club Camelot, rushing through the open blast gated entrance and down the stairs to the platform. They were the first crowd to arrive and managed to find comfortable seats in the first available railcar, and managing to squeeze into only one row of seats, they waited patiently until it reached maximum capacity. They could hear the muffled groaning of steel, and the roar of the torrent, now louder than ever. There was a loud bang, the sound of the blast gate to the surface sealing, and within seconds, the car hummed to life and launched down the rails at speeds in excess of two hundred miles per hour. The power flickered on and off, but the generator feeding the electric-powered railway network remained on as the car slowly began to speed up.

In seconds, they emerged from the darkness of the subway tunnel and into a snaking, completely glass, tunnel system deep beneath a lake located in the heart of the city. Alex could just barely get into a position where he could see ahead of them, and he watched as the car approached a large underwater cliff, they were almost to their destination. In an instant, they were thrust in darkness as the glass tunnel gave way to another enclosed one, the fluorescent tube lights lining the interior were dim, still warming up. The car slowed to a stop, but they were forced to wait for several minutes before the mechanical doors opened and the crowd was allowed to neatly exit. Upon exiting the railcar onto "Epsilon" Platform, Alex flashed his ID papers as the welcoming guards, allowing him and Alpha Company to continue into the sprawling underground apartment complex, without escorts, unlike the rest of the civilians. The subterranean apartment complex functioned like a three or four-starred hotel, only meant to house the civilians of the Quads in the event a full-scale evacuation was needed, for as long as they needed to be out of the city. It was heavily guarded, built deep into an island set in the center of the lake that dominated the heart of the largest of the Montana Quads, Cartoon City.

Being among the first groups to arrive at the facility, it was relatively empty and uncrowded. As soldiers of the Terminator Militia, they did not need escorts to take them to their preassigned apartments, unlike the civilians. They also were given the exact same rooms they had the last time they were down here, after storms flooded the Quads. Alex smirked at this thought, remembering the devastating drought ravaging the northern United States, including Montana, and the southern reaches of Canada. Alpha Company split up once they reached the food court just before their rooms, each heading into their respective apartments, with the exception of new arrivals Spyro and Cynder, who stared around them with a mixture of confusion, awe, slight fear, and, vaguely, of a sort of excitement. "Where are we gonna stay?" Spyro asked as Alex unlocked the bulkhead door and let himself into his room, stepping aside to allow them entry.

The Commander shrugged, "I'll have to talk to someone, for now, guess you can stay with me...you two can have the second bedroom."

"I wonder what happened..." the purple dragon began with a frown, "I don't think dams just randomly bust their seams, do they?"

"Happens more often than you'd think, but no, it's never happened to us before."

"Look at this..." Cynder began, approaching the large, rectangular window centered on the wall directly across from the door out into the corridor. Light shined through the waves, casting the room in a bright, sapphire hue. They were on the floor of the lake, and various marine wildlife swam past them. "It's beautiful..."

"You'll get used to it," Alex remarked, "It'll lose its charm after awhile."

"How long do you think we'll be down here?" Spyro asked.

"Hard telling, the last time we were stuck here, it was about four or five months before we were allowed back up."

"Jeez, what happened?"

"Bad storm flooded the area."

"You think we'll be stuck down here for that long?" Cynder asked, slightly worried.

"Not sure, best not to worry about it, though," he replied with a shrug, "Nice change of scenery though, don't you think?"

Cynder pursed her lips at the sight of Alex's bed, in the living room. The adjacent room, where they would be staying, was connected to his bedroom, "Well, this will be awkward..."

"What will?" the Commander replied, setting things up.

"We have to go through your room to get out of here."

"And your point is...?"

"It would just be a little...strange, that's all."

"Cyn, it's not like I sleep in the nude or anything, everybody's gotta sleep, s'not like it's a real private affair."

"Nevermind..." she sighed, and both she and Spyro disappeared into their bedroom. Once he was settled in, Alex fell backwards onto his bed, and with a sigh, closed his eyes.

Cynder's eyes shot open and she anxiously looked around. She had been having nightmares again, dreaming of her dark past, back in the days when she was still terrorizing the Realms, slaughtering its denizens and burning its lands, fully under the control of an ancient, vengeful dragon, having been indoctrinated since she had hatched into being a mindless monster and slave of the dark, evil purple dragon, known as Malefor. Spyro, the next purple dragon after Malefor, had been the one to combat her, purifying her of the corruption that had engulfed her, then choosing to save her life instead of letting her perish, like she _should _have, like she _deserved_, given everything she had done, all the pain and suffering she had caused.

Glancing over towards her friend and savior to ensure he was still sleeping soundly, Cynder slipped out of bed, heading into the main living room, hoping to catch a breath of fresh air to calm her mind. Upon entering the main room, she spied Alex sleeping soundly, and she remembered that she wasn't in Club Camelot. For a few moments, she watched him sleep, feeling an unusual set of emotions towards him, something that was more strongly felt around Spyro. Although she had not been raised to believe such ideas, since Spyro had saved her, she had begun to grasp the simplest concepts of love, affection, family, and friendship, and she found that the she felt a strong sort of attachment to Alex, too strong to be friendship, but too weak to be considered love. Baffled by this, she set the idea aside, slinking towards the bulkhead leading out into the labyrinth of corridors. Upon reaching the door, however, she paused in place once more, craning her neck to face Alex once again. He was sleeping in a sort of half-fetal position, half-side sleep, and she was alarmed to see how vulnerable and youthful he looked. It didn't take long to realize that they shared similar origin stories, only where she had been trained since birth as a soldier, he had served a few years in a healthy family before his capture and indoctrination.

She smiled warmly towards him, feeling a flash of heat shoot down her body and collecting around her lower thighs. It was a strange feeling, mirroring a diluted version of that which she had experienced when she first came face to face with Spyro at the peak of her castle, childhood home, and prison. She remembered that upon meeting him in person, she felt that same tangled web of emotion and heat surging through her body, something she, at that point in time, has mistook for pure, unadulterated, blind fury and bloodlust, when in actuality, she later learned during some scroll-reading in her spare time at the Dragon Temple, some time after he and the Guardians had effectively adopted her, was actually a sign of sexual arousal in members of all species, dragons included. This then railed her mind to another, much older memory, when she was a few years younger and during one of the many long, lonely nights she had spent at her castle, shortly after her first flyby encounter with Spyro early on in their conflict. She had suffered from that same web of emotion and heat, almost like a powerful fever, lasting the rest of the day and into the night, something that had been diagnosed _as_ a fever by her primate caretakers. That night, she had experienced a rather interesting dream depicting the two coupled in a mating embrace, a dream that had felt very much real and vivid. She had awoken from this in a cold sweat, feeling wet and sore down in her nether regions, a_ very _new feeling, late in the night and had discovered masturbation, during which her climax had, shockingly, completely dissolved that feverish sensation, while also completely surprising her with the massive explosion of pleasure, even if her body, especially her lower belly, ached and pained her in the aftermath. How happy and relieved she had felt when further, almost nightly, sessions considerably lessened the unpleasant aftermath almost to the point of nonexistence. She blushed at the fact that, even to this day, she still set aside part of her nightly routine to add a few minutes of alone time, and she felt partially guilty at the thought that it was almost like a drug addict feeding his addiction. Then she wondered if, perhaps, both males she felt attached to did the same, maybe with her in mind...she shook her head, driving these thoughts away. One thing she _was _sure of, she wanted to take a peek at the object of which the sheathe on Spyro's lower belly protected...she had not seen it before, but she wanted to, she just did not know how she could achieve such a goal without attracting his, or anyone else's, attention.

Driving away these tiny, persistent, selfish thoughts, she returned to what she had been chewing over before, with her new, surprise attraction to Alex. History was repeating itself, albeit there was something very much different with him, something that was, or seemed to be at least, significantly weaker than what she had experienced with Spyro, and she started to wonder how the Commander would feel about her revelation. Deciding that bringing light to such a private, personal matter was not appropriate, especially considering that hers and Alex's relationship was akin to master and apprentice, teacher and student, she slowly and quietly spun the wheel of the heavy, steel, bullkhead door in front of her, swinging it open and slipping outside, quietly closing it behind her. The hall was empty and shockingly quiet, save for the dull buzz of the dim, circular, recessed lights dotting the hall ceiling, providing very simple night lighting. With a sigh, and smiling at the rush of cool air around her hot, sore, sweaty body, she went for a walk, trying to grasp her bearings, clearing her mind of the nightmare and sorting through her mixed emotions at the same time. She considered telling Spyro about how she felt about him, but was worried about his response, would he be disgusted? Terrified? Would their friendship, her first and strongest one, completely dissolve because she had uttered those three damned words? Her entire life had been one misery after another, the last thing she wanted was to lose her friends, especially her best friend, because of a moment of confusion and doubt within her undeniably convoluted mind. At the same time, she also considered at least hinting towards Alex of her confused emotions towards him, but also worried about his reaction, which would most likely be much worse and much more despised, considering how humans viewed interspecies relationships between one of their own and another species, regardless of whether or not the other species in question was sentient.

There was some faint hope that he _might _accept such thoughts, remembering what Elliot had accused him of, and what she could now confirm after some sly investigations. She had also sneaked into some of her companions' unguarded minds while they slept, diving into their memories, with the intent of learning more about her new friends and family, and had turned up that Alex and Piermont had quite the interesting past between them, something that lay dusty, but unburied, which further reinforced the likelihood that he would not mind her feelings for him, even if they never came to fruition, by far the most likely scenario. He would probably view it as a schoolgirl crush, something that would come and pass in the blink of an eye, and although he might be flattered by such an attraction, given his apparent history, he would probably leave it at that, even though she knew that it wasn't a temporary infatuation, and he would seek, expect, or promote nothing more.

Diverting her mind away from the highly implausible scenario of anything sparking between her and her superior, unless a day came around where the lighting was just perfect and the balance of emotions between them was just right, she turned her mind back on the most desired and likely case, something sparking between her and Spyro. She juggled multiple different scenarios that would enable her to pass on the sensitive admission, but soon gave up on all of them and decided to keep doing what she had been doing, playing it safe and keeping a watchful eye for the prime opportunity to reveal the truth to him, maybe passing on a little hint here and there, or testing the waters with him about how he would feel about a potential relationship, something more than simply friends. Maybe if she brought the topic up with Alex, the only person here, aside from Spyro, that she trusted with her deepest secrets, he could give her some tips, or at least set up a case where she could find out exactly how Spyro would react to such an idea. Maybe talk Alex into commenting to the purple dragon that she and him would make a cute couple, or some other passing, casual remark, then judging Spyro's reaction to it to get a rough idea of his stance on the idea of him and the she-dragon engaging in a more intimate, advanced relationship. She pondered over the ultimate goal of forging a relationship between two members of a species, reproduction, and found that she did not mind bearing his children at all, in fact, even desired it, she longed to be a mother, with him as the father of her children.

"Maybe one day," she said with a sigh, and deciding that she had ventured long enough, she rotated on her heels and returned to their room, slipping inside once more, pausing one final time to observe Alex sleep for a moment before heading back into her room, crawling onto one side of the queen-sized bed, curling up, and falling asleep, praying that the nightmares did not return.

The following morning, Alpha Company was called to meet with Elliot in his hospital room within the 'Med-Sci' sector of the subterranean facility. Upon their entry, they found his doctor, a tall, thin brunette of early thirties, administering his medication. Alpha Company parted, allowing her to leave before they approached the old but sprightly general, looking none-too-pleased at his current state. The old general was sitting upright in bed, fully alert, the only sign of his injury being a barely bloodstained strip of gauze wrapped around his leg.

"Well you look like hammered shit," Piermont remarked with a smirk, "Long night?"

Elliot responded by flipping him off, "Screw you, Pierre."

"How you feelin'?" Alex asked him.

Elliot grunted, "Was just a flesh wound, easy fix, though I did think about it, and maybe dosing everyone in the militia up on the serum ain't such a bad idea after all."

"We can arrange that, I think...anyway, what did you want us for?"

"I might be bedridden, but I still have eyes and ears all over this damn city, and guess what our guys found upon examination of the dam's remains?"

"What?"

"Bomb fragments, real rough, they ain't professionals, but what I find interesting, is who _built _them."

"Got an idea?"

"Heh..." Elliot smirked, "We found three sets of foreign fingerprints on what's left. I'll give you a twenty if you can guess who they belong to."

"Mabao and that Tartarus Unit?"

"Tartarus Unit, yes, as for the third set, we're not sure right now, I assume it's the bomb maker, since I could tell just by seeing those queer-ass sons of bitches that they ain't capable of a plan this elaborate."

"Maybe it's Mabao's general, the guy in charge of these..._Maxian _motherfuckers, or whatever," Piermont replied.

"That's what we're thinking to, but what's odd, is that, from what I've heard anyway, forensics is unable to identify the prints, as in, our culprit doesn't seem to exist. We've run them across every man and woman on the FBI's Most Wanted database...without the feds' knowledge of course, all of Washington's records on the citizens of the USA, and are currently running them through each member of Mabao's regime, last I talked to the specialist. He said he'll report if he finds anything interesting or otherwise out of the ordinary, but for now, we have no leads. All we know is that the Tartarus Unit is involved, which brings me to another topic of interest."

"Which is?" Alex asked.

"What in the hell we are gonna do to increase our security, I'm asking you, Vaughn, because this is, without a doubt really, _your_ damn city. If the Tartarus Unit could slip in past all of our patrols without raising suspicion, then I am very worried. We don't need a foolproof system, but we need _something_ that can prevent any ordinary from getting access to restricted areas. The Tartarus Unit thought they could make a statement by blowing the dam and flooding the Quads, they did, but what I'm worried about is if another pair of balls grows between those two faggots, and they decide to attack something much...bigger, or much more critical to our war machine. If Mabao is prepping for war, I would not have a doubt in my mind that, before he announces an official declaration, pending he even does, for that matter, he will do everything he can to cripple our defenses to dramatically reduce our efficiency and response time. Rule number one in warfare is to know your enemy. If Mabao has our extermination in mind, then I'm sure he has the DoD and the Pentagon on his side, that bullshit ambush was only proof of my fears.

"Even if he is a complete novice when it comes to warfare, the Pentagon basically wrote the damn book on it. They will attack our resources, our supplies, ambush and raid our outposts, fortresses, and allies in Christ knows how many black operations missions to cripple our defenses BEFORE the declaration, so we don't have time to prepare an effective strategy without dealing with complete chaos across the board. Unfortunately, the Pentagon also knows all about you, Vaughn, and Alpha Company. They know your history, your rather impressive track record, and they do not underestimate your abilities when pressed into a corner, so they're probably plotting out how to knock down your defenses enough to allow Mabao's forces to move in and take you out. I can't help but wonder if Anchorage, Connorsville, and Chicago was part of that."

"How do you know this?" Spyro asked.

Elliot grinned, revealing his tobacco-stained teeth, "I'm a vet, and I wasn't just _given _my rank like Alex was. I'm career army, formerly spec ops, I busted my ass to work my way up the ranks and earn my position. Let's just say that I know things, and I know how these guys work. Hell, if even a couple of the operations I've participated in were ever declassified, you boys wouldn't know whether I was a friend or foe. Here's a hint, a few of the teams I was on specialized in infiltrating the enemy's ranks, spending upwards of several years working your way into their inner circle, putting you in the prime position to take them down from the inside, then enabling you to escape without rousing any suspicion at all, without even giving them a _remote _clue to your betrayal. That's how we worked, and that is _exactly _what they're wanting and plotting to do to you."

"Really? So how can we trust you?" Cynder asked.

"Heh...I don't know," and he smugly grinned, laying back, "You tell me."

"Elliot isn't going to betray us," Alex scoffed, "I know that much, he's just worrying you for nothing."

"Am I really, Commander Vaughn?"

Alex glared at him before turning to face his companions again, "He isn't going to betray us, but he does have a point. I don't know a lot, but I know enough, and I've had my suspicions, too."

"Right," Elliot responded sarcastically, "Sure you have, Vaughn. I call bullshit. You have always been the frontline fighter, the infantryman and cannon fodder, I've seen you build a strategy on your own _maybe _once or twice in the ten years I've spent with your little army, and _never _have I seen you forge a covert, black ops battle plan. In fact, the last time I even _allowed_ you to pitch in some ideas, you, that damned skunk, and your spotted cat over there got caught red-handed, thrown in a cell underground, and tortured for a week until the chickenshit pacifist busted your sorry ass out of the hole."

"We still killed 'No-Tongue'."

"No you didn't, the 'Lucky' 13th Armoured Division did while you were suffering a mental breakdown following Rapid's admittedly accidental execution."

"Regardless," Alex scowled, "I have plotted black ops missions before."

"And I don't count _Devha_."

"Fuck you."

"So what do you suggest we do then, Elliot?" Spyro asked.

"Talk with the Captain of the Guard for one, figure out how to up our security and really crack down on who comes and goes, that's your first step. Once you are secure from any enemy forces infiltrating your ranks and sabotaging or hijacking your assets, work on your defenses, and once your defenses are sturdy, _then _work on planning out an offensive operation. You go running in barking mad, and we're gonna lose the war before it even begins. Shit like this takes time and careful planning, and a strong defense is _always _greater than a strong offense, there's no sense in grabbing territories if you're only gonna lose them again to a surprise enemy counterattack. Sometimes the most effective way to fight is not to blitz your opponent in a mass attack, _a la _Charity Hill," and Alex growled beneath his breath, while the others looked upon in confusion, "Look it up if you don't know what I'm talking about. Anyway, sometimes, the most effective strategy is just to maintain your hold on what you have already, grab some new assets from your enemy when you are absolutely sure you can, ensuring you hold them against all possible moves by your foe, and wear down the enemy and their _espirit de corps_, while simultaneously keeping yours high and keeping your friendlies and civvies under your influence from succumbing to war-weariness. You'd be surprised how effective civilian support is towards a victory, even if just in spirit, not contributing anything useful.

"Satisfied civilians with pride in the faction they support means little to no trouble on the homefront, and a higher chance of some additional recruits and reinforcements for the war machine in the future. War is a deadly game of chess, you can have a strategy all you want, but you have to be flexible, you have to have the skill to be able to adapt to the random variables of your opponent's moves, which have the potential to be devastating to this carefully smoothed out plan you have been working on since the first move, in a moment's notice. Failure to do so will only spell doom for you. You can have the most surefire, tried and true, ultimately perfect plan in the world, but one quick move by your opponent, his pawn claiming your knight, his bishop claiming your queen, can completely render it obsolete and ineffective. There is no such thing as a perfect plan, there is no such thing as a _foolproof _one, either. Every man's mind works differently, and there are an infinite number of variables that you have to take into account when plotting your next move. Sometimes you have to sacrifice something you have to gain ground. Using a chess metaphor, you have to sacrifice _your_ queen to take out your opponent's. To use a real-life example, look at the Soviets and Stalingrad. These are all things you have to take into account, because not all battles are clean-cut victories, and you need to always be one step ahead of your foe. You will have losses, staggering losses no doubt, and you will have very weak, Pyrrhic victories, that's all part of the game. Do you guys understand what I'm saying?"

"Makes perfect sense to me," Cynder remarked, and Alex nodded in response.

"Now, I'm done friggin' talking...you wanna help me? Get these candy stripers to let me have a smoke."

The room emptied until only Piermont and Elliot remained, and he turned to face the general, asking, "What are the odds of success? Do you think we can fight a war and win?"

Elliot fell silent for a few moments, finally shrugging, and with a sigh, saying, "I don't even know, Pierre. Fighting the greatest military superpower in the world is nothing like fighting some bitchy little militia, like the LKA. The United States is feared by even our enemies for good reason, the Terminator Militia may have the size over the US Armed Forces, but I can assure you we do not have the skill or ability to take on the US without sheer, dumb luck, which we have had in the past, but doesn't mean jack squat. Vaughn may act all rough and tough now, but war is hell. The hardest thing about it is witnessing these shards of humanity and realizing that the people you are fighting are nothing more than your average Joe following orders, making ends meet for the family back at home and probably not even realizing just the sort of atrocities that Command is making them do. I was a sniper early in my career, and I would often spend days deep in enemy territory observing. The things that you will see, whether that's the guard who took in a kitten left out in the rain, or the sniper who adopted a crying little girl orphaned by the war, will make you doubt what you're doing and why you're fighting, it'll make you amazed that these are the same people who were shooting at you. It's hard, but you have to ignore it and do your mission, Alex can act as badass as he wants, but these are all things that he WILL see, if we are thrust into a war, and things that I'm not sure he can handle."

"I think you're underestimating him."

"I would not be so sure, Pierre."

"You don't know him like I do."

"Right, because you, being his fuckbuddy, know everything you could possibly know about our fucked up, twisted little child soldier."

"No, but I know his frame of mind, he's a mean bastard."

"He's a kid that never grew up!"

"And that means something?"

"Forget about it," Elliot scowled, "I've been doing this thing a helluva lot longer than Alex has even been alive! I've actually fought other countries, other governments who have their own purpose and agenda, not just some batshit crazy deserter with a God complex! I know my shit, and I doubt that Alex Vaughn can handle something like this."

With a sigh, Piermont said, "You know what, sir? I think you don't give us enough credit, yeah we've yet to experience the shit you have, but we are still experienced in combat, and you can doubt us and our leader all you want, but I think you will be surprised when you see just how good we really are."

"Cut the crap, Pierre, I'll believe it when I see it."

"So be it then," and he left.


	8. Chapter VII: Epoch

_**Chapter VII**_**:**

**-''Epoch''-**

**-Washington DC, Virginia-**

**-**_**10 April 2009**_**-**

**-**_**1725 Hours**_**-**

"Mr. President?" a secret service agent began, opening the door to the Oval Office. Barry Mabao sat at his desk, feet propped upon it, a television mounted up on the wall showing footage of the riots that continued to terrorize the United States.

"What is it, Kyle," he replied, sitting up.

"It's time."

Mabao stood up from his seat, stretching and popping his neck muscles as he walked over to the agent, "Then we best not keep our visitors waiting."

As they walked through the busy halls of the White House, there were televisions and radios on in almost every room, reporting on both Mabao's imminent speech, as well as the continuing riots and massacres occurring across the United States. Halfway to their destination, Mabao asked, "Have we received the Court's approval?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. President."

"Excellent..."

His agents remained standing to either side of the door as Mabao entered the washroom, ensuring that he looked appropriate for the occasion. He glanced at himself in the mirror, grinning maliciously, today was the day that he had been waiting for. He uttered a silent prayer to the angel Deitus, and assuring himself that everything would go as planned, along with sensing the approval of his angelic guardian, he finally left the room, reuniting with his bodyguards as they exited the washroom and headed back towards the Oval Office. Once inside, he closed the door behind him, taking a seat behind the _Resolute _Desk, and grinning widely as the reporters piled in, getting everything set up before he nodded for the cameras to start rolling.

With a nod that he was live, Mabao began, "My fellow Americans, today I bring to you graven news. With the anarchist Terminator Militia continuing to terrorize our beautiful country, slaughtering our brothers and sisters, our neighbors, our friends and family, we have been forced to come to a grim, but necessary decision. Though against my better judgment, I realize that there is no negotiating with the militia, and the news that I am about to bring to you is a necessary evil.

"Ever since our Founding Fathers penned the Declaration of Independence that fateful July 4th of the year 1776, the United States of America has ascended to maintain order, peace, tranquility, and democracy across the world. Today, we face not an external threat, another nation threatening the order and tender balance of the world, but one from within our own borders. For years, the Terminator Militia has manipulated the hearts and minds of the American people, infiltrating our way of life, planting the seeds of anarchy, chaos, and disorder in our cities, paving the way for our downfall, so that they may rise to lay siege to our country and elect themselves as kings and queens, hiding behind their seemingly innocent and good deeds. No, we will not let them. Today, we will stand against our oppressors, fight back against their manipulative hand and unseat them from power and influence as is our nature. Today, we sow the seeds of a new era for America, one free of their oppressive control on our freedom. Today, we declare our independence, like our Founding Fathers did 200 years ago.

"We have reached out to them for a peaceful departure, but neither their founder, Great Commander Alex Vaughn, or their leader, our own General Robert Elliot, are willing to negotiate. As of today, April 10, 2009, 5:35 PM, I, as the President of the United States of America, declare a state of war on the Terminator Militia. I shall also announce the founding of a new branch of the United States Armed Forces, a task force of some of the greatest, most intelligent, most skilled men and women to ever grace our ranks, I introduce to you, the _Maxia _Initiative. I have faith that our heroic men and women, with a little help from the _Maxia_, will be able to finally free us completely from the restraints placed upon us by the Terminator Militia. Today, things change! Today, we will fight against our oppressors and our slavers, so that tomorrow, we will be free once again!"

The crowd of reporters who had gathered to record his speech broke out in applause as Mabao patiently waited, smiling in appreciation. He was aware of a warm presence settling itself over his body, an unseen man whispered into his ear, in a calming, soothing, and victorious tone, _You did well..._Mabao only smiled in response to the disembodied, omnipresent angel's admiration, _Now the easy part begins, bringing forth the deaths of Messoremel and Vitamel_...


	9. Chapter VIII: The Second Civil War

_**Chapter VIII**_**:**

**-''The Second Civil War''-**

**-Beneath Cartoon City, Montana-**

**-**_**10 April 2009**_**-**

**-**_**1745 Hours**_**-**

Alpha Company sat around the living room of Alex's apartment, watching Mabao's speech. Upon it's conclusion, they all remained silent and still before a human-form Piermont shot up, stomping forward and throwing a small table to the side, spilling its contents on the floor, including two open, nearly full cans of Mountain Dew. "This is _BULLSHIT_!" he roared, "What the _FUCK _did we do to deserve _this!? _That goddamn cumstain never approached us! He's fucking lying!"

"We know that," Alex replied in a calm, cool, and collected tone, "No sense in having a heart attack over it though," and he sighed, "We saw this coming from a mile away."

"The hell are we supposed to _do_, man!?"

"Simple," Cynder began, "We get out there and fight the war."

"Do we even stand a chance?" Crash asked, worried, "I mean, yeah we're big...but our forces are scattered to the friggin' winds..."

"Here's our chance to find out," Alex replied, standing with a grunt and limping over to a closet, pulling out the vacuum cleaner.

"Leg hurting again?" Cheet asked.

"Isn't it always?"

"Valid point."

"I just..." and Piermont collapsed back into his seat, holding his head in his hand. He was breathing heavily, visibly shaking, "Let's hope to God we can make it."

"We will," Alex replied, "Have a little faith, huh?"

"How are we gonna take on the entire US?"

"Simple, just like we did with the LKA."

"Yeah, but the LKA is a fucking JV league team compared to what we're dealing with...hell we gonna do when Mabao sends the SEALS, or the Rangers, or whatever the hell he's gonna do, after us. You know it's gonna happen, he's gonna use every resource at his disposal to make sure he can hang our heads for the word to see and mock."

"God, we're gonna need all the help we can get..." Spyro sighed.

"That is why I'm commissioning for every soldier in our force to be dosed up with the mutation serum," Alex replied, "Or at least a low dosage. If anything, we can have an early advantage over Mabao, though I wouldn't doubt that he finds some way to bypass our serum."

"I just can't..." Piermont sighed, "Can't believe it's come down to this..."

"We saw it coming a mile away," Cynder replied sadly, and Spyro nodded.

"I know but...still, man...here's hoping we can, at the very least, hold our own."

"We'll have to try."

"You guys saw the news?" Elliot began, limping over to them. Alpha Company had been called by an anxious Elliot to meet him in the makeshift war room. The conference room was filled to the brim with officers and technicians, all watching Mabao's speech replay.

"No shit, we did," Alex bit, "Can't say I'm surprised, but at the same time, I was hoping it wouldn't come down to this."

"Well surprise, Barry just kicked the fuckin' dog."

"Do we have any news on the surface?"

"Yeah, the place is still flooded as hell...but I don't see why that's important right now."

"I mean with the other cities. Have we heard back from them on the union?"

"Oh..." and Elliot nodded, "Yes and no. Two of them have approved of it so far, we're just waiting for the other. Maybe this declaration will make their mind, eh?"

"Union? What are you talking about?" Spyro asked.

"You'll see..." then back towards Elliot, "Although I really do hope the flood waters recede soon, with this declaration, I wouldn't doubt that the _Maxia _will be showing up at our doorstep any time now...and the city is already severely lacking in sturdy defenses."

"Unfortunately, it won't be in a habitable state for Christ knows how long," Elliot sighed, "Gonna need to think of somethin' else, I'm afraid. I'd risk reinforcing some of the nearby cities to hold them off until we can get the Quads' defenses up to spec, problem is, the Quads are quite isolated from the rest of the damn state..."

Suddenly, Alex's eyes widened with dawning realization, "I have an idea..."

"Care to share?"

"We can get Beta Company down here to surround the Quads in a ring of fire. Dragonfire is hot enough to melt through anything, _Maxia_ will have a helluva time punching through it."

"You mean like a permanent encircling ring of fire?"

"Yeah."

Elliot abruptly shook his head, "Fuck that! The amount of heat that would generate off that would completely burn the whole damn area to a fuckin' crisp!"

"Suggestion," Cynder began, "What if we cordon off a specific area that could be 'our' territory, encircle that in dragonfire? It doesn't have to be just the city, plus, Realm dragons like Spyro and I can put some wards on the fire to control some of the heat that radiates."

Elliot shook his head again, "No! No dragonfire!"

"Elliot," Alex began, "Only Swizzle Firma's steel has proven to be resistant to dragonfire, the _Maxia _don't have access to that like we do, especially if we inform Max beforehand. We surround our territory in dragonfire, and the _Maxia _will be left outside, at least until they develop an alternative steel for their weapons of war, pending they _can_, I mean."

Elliot chuckled, irritated, "So the hell do you suggest we do then, exactly?"

Spyro spoke, "Play it out like the American Civil War, give us control over the northern half of the country, reinforce key areas with troops to control everybody and drive off any _Maxian _loyalists, try to establish a foothold, make this 'our' nation. Leave the south to rot with Mabao, since he's pretty much wiped the most friendly areas off the face of the map. We used to have supporters, people who knew that we couldn't be responsible for the atrocities we've been accused of...Mabao has either killed them or scared them into silence. As far as we know, we have no friendlies left in the areas afflicted by the _Maxia_'s overnight razings...that's most of the Bible Belt and states like the Republic of Texas. Surround the northern US in a ring of dragonfire, Cyn and I will put up the wards, and we're golden. There will still be some exposure on our north side, since I don't think Canada would approve of us frying their territory, but it shouldn't be more than we can handle, it'll just be a little warmer, and we won't have a winter."

Alex thought for a few moments before nodding, "Yeah, if we can get Beta Company up here, we can have it done by tomorrow morning."

Several eerily silent minutes passed before Elliot sighed, finally saying, "All right, we'll try your little plan, how difficult will it be to take it down if this firewall don't work?"

Spyro shrugged, "Not hard."

"Fine...I'll contact Beta Company, when you boys planning on heading out?"

"We can go right now if you want us to," Alex replied with a nod.

Elliot nodded, "All right then, I'll clear you through back to the surface."

"Thanks a bunch."

"Yeah, yeah. You can thank me by making this damn thing work."

Alex, riding Piermont's back, Spyro, Cynder, and another Alpha Company member, Piermont's pregnant mate, a female Martaanean Field Dragon known as Cherub, immediately rocketed towards the American/Canadian border upon their emergence from the underground into the waist-high floodwaters. The Field Dragons, like their Forest Dragon brethren, were a largely democratic society, in contrast to the tribal, matriarchal Desert Dwellers, as black as the nighttime skies, and towering over their cousins. Field Dragons had shining gold scales to help them blend in to the prairies from which they hailed, with tan bellies and wing membranes, bright, golden eyes, black horns, talons, and spines, and were the smallest of the Martaanean dragons, averaging about six or seven feet tall from paw to the tops of their heads and proportionately long. Also like their forest dragon cousins, males had small curved back, slightly ribbed horns, while females only had small stubs, and both forest and field dragons were herbivorous in nature, in contrast to the carnivorous Desert Dragons.

The sun was setting to the left of the Commander's Wing, casting the flooded and disturbingly dark and quiet city in an eerie glow. "Right," Alex began as they straddled the approximate border, "Let us begin, shall we?"

Spyro nodded, and Cynder replied, "Just got word from Elliot, Beta Company has splintered into quarters, each team is taking one side of the country."

"Rah..." Alex replied, and with a mighty roar, Piermont opened his emerald maw, spewing white fire down onto the ground beneath them. In an instant, the dark, green pastures beneath them erupting into mighty flame, a searing heat instantly assaulted them, bringing on thoughts of a descent into the pit of Hell itself to the Commander's mind. The unbearable, stinging heat was short-lived, however, before Spyro and Cynder, swirling around each other, breathed a white, hot mist down onto the flames, instantly dampening the heat to a tolerable level, like that of mid-to-late summer. The flames severely reduced and seemed to flinch away from their ward, appearing to simmer and flicker out, before with a loud roar, they surged back to full strength. Pausing every minute or two to catch his breath, Piermont delivered an almost constant barrage of flame to the now pitch-black ground beneath them as the flames towered several thousand feet into the air behind them, casting the dark and dreary world in a fiery glow, like that upon a parlor by a roaring fireplace. Soon, a wing of dragonriders joined them in the skies, emerging from electric blue teleportation spheres, hailing from the Caribbean Island nation of Martaan, a militarized island, the very first ally of the Terminator Militia, home of the 'Dragonrider Division' of the Terminator Militia, known as Beta Company, and known, not only for housing three unique species of dragons, but also three vastly different biomes: tropics, prairie lands, and arid deserts.

Piermont and the new arrivals alternated contributing to the wall of fire, while Spyro and Cynder alternated in supplying the wards to control the heat of the flames. A young, unbonded forest dragon broke apart from the rest of the new arrivals, referred to as 'Arian' by his protesting superior, a male Martaanean Desert Dragon, joining the Commander's Wing in flight. Desert Dragon societies were vastly different from those of their cousins. Due to their tribal and matriarchal nature, each tribe consisted of a dominant female, surrounded by a harem of subordinate males and other, subordinate females, usually all of her own choosing. There was hardly any physical difference between the males and females when they weren't sexually aroused, with the exception that females were slightly larger than the males. Both averaged around the same height, about twelve to thirteen feet from paw to head, had not only black bodies (broken by a distinct, bright red carot-like shape on their chests), but both sexes had black horns, curved inward at ninety degrees, with black talons, wing membranes, and spines, with bright blood-red eyes. In fact, the only real similarity between Desert Dwellers and the other Martaanean dragons was their surprisingly mammalian nature. Although they were scaled, they gave live birth, and mothers nourished the young, called dragonlings, with milk.

As they approached to meet up with an eastbound wing of dragonriders erecting the wall of fire, Arian spoke to them, asking, "What shall we call this mighty wall?"

"Naming it ain't our highest priority at the moment, newblood."

Alex chuckled, "How about the Furnace Curtain, like the Iron Curtain, since this damn thing is hot as a fucking furnace?"

"The Fee-err-nezz Curtain?" Arian asked, "I'm familiar with the term 'curtain', but what is a _fiernes_?"

"Furnace," Alex replied with a grin, "But let's go with your idea, sounds better."

"The _Fiernes Curtain_?" Piermont began, nodding with a 'not bad' expression, "I like it, got a sort of ring to it."

Once the two opposing sides met, on the north side of the Great Lakes, the other wings teleported out of the area, presumably heading to other areas that needed to be fortified. Spyro and Cynder broke away from the Commander's Wing here and Cynder said, "We're gonna contact the Guardians, see if we can recruit their help to finish warding the rest of the wall, I don't know when we'll be back but..."

"Don't worry about it," Alex interrupted, "We'll see you when we see you, just take care of yourself, all right? Don't want anything to happen to you guys, love ya."

Cynder blushed, barely noticeable, and Spyro nodded, "You, too, Alex," before he rocketed forwards, pausing after a few seconds to rotate mid-hover and ask, "You coming, Cyn?"

"I'll be right there..." she spoke, turning to face Alex one more time before launching forward to reunite with her friend.

Once they had teleported out of the area, Piermont and Cherub landed on the banks of Michigan, across from the north side of the Great Lakes, now home to the towering wall of dragonfire, the christened _Fiernes Curtain_. The two Martaanean dragons nuzzled each other affectionately, intertwining their tails and touching foreheads, dragonian signs of affection. Piermont lowered his muzzle to prod his mate's extended belly, "Hope he didn't get too warm in there..."

"I'm sure she's fine," Cherub grinned, "She's a dragon, she can take a little heat."

"You're right," and he grinned back, "And he's a strong one at that."

"Indeed _she _is," and she winked, eyes alight with love.

Alex said nothing, paying no heed to their conversation, staring off towards the encapsulating wall of fire, as if in a trance. There was something about the wall, something about how the flames burned and flared, looking almost like a waterfall of lava. There was something entrancing about the wall, something that he couldn't describe, but it held his allurement.

He was free from his trance by Piermont's voice, sounding concerned, "Yo, Alex...you still with us?"

He shook his head, "Yeah, I'm fine."

Piermont then craned his neck and affectionately nuzzled his rider, "Are you sure? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah..." he stroked the base of the dragon's horn, a place that the dragon enjoyed being touched, and immediately causing a deep, throaty, barely audible drone from the his body, dragonian purring, "Just...trying to come to terms with everything that's happened today."

"I'll give you that," Piermont replied with a sigh, "A lot has happened...won't be all bad though, just you wait and see, we'll get through it, and we'll kick that Mabao's ass in the process."

Alex grinned, hugging his mount, "I love you."

Piermont grinned back, his purring growing louder, "Love you, too."

The next morning, Alex's eyes shot open, and he groaned, stretching as he sat up in bed. Climbing out of bed, he wandered over to the single window, staring into the wild blue yonder beyond, tinted a faint red-orange by the _Curtain _north of the city. A school fish swam by, and he snorted, making his way to the bathroom where he relieved himself and cleaned up, dressing and heading outside. He found the rest of Alpha Company, sans Spyro, Cynder, Piermont, and Cherub, in the nearby cafeteria, sitting around and eating breakfast. "Any word from Spyro or Cynder?" he asked.

"Nope," Sonic replied, "They still out and about?"

"I dunno...I didn't hear them come in last night."

"You also sleep like a friggin' rock," a broken voice spoke from behind him, and Alex turned to face Piermont and Cherub, both appearing deeply exhausted, slowly trudge over to them, "Note to self," Piermont continued, "Never do that again, throat hurts."

"Think you guys did good," Alex replied, "Though you look like death warmed over."

"Yeah...you try spending six fuckin' hours spittin' fire, and we'll see how _you _look."

"So, I take it Spyro and Cynder are home then? Or they till gone?"

Piermont shrugged, "I dunno, don't live with you, man. You didn't check?"

"Nope, don't want to invade their privacy."

The forest dragon chuckled, "Aww, they finally decided to dance the tube-stake? Shit, even _Spearow_ is getting lucky before you are, that's sayin' somethin'."

"Not that I'm aware of, but they still deserve privacy," he replied, ignoring Piermont insult, as he always was in these situations, Alex was astounded by how rapidly Piermont could shift between his false, 'arrogant douche' personality, shown in public or in the company of the rest of Alpha Company, and his true, 'shy, gentle, and caring giant' colors when solely in the presence of his mate or his rider.

"Boy, this is the Army, there ain't no such thing as 'privacy'."

"No, this is the Terminator Militia, the Army is who we're now fighting, remember?"

"Oh yeah, that's right, forgot already, goddamn this'll be a long-ass war."

"So it wasn't just a bad nightmare then," Crash sighed.

"Nope," Alex replied grimly, taking a seat, "Or if it was, you ain't the only one dreaming it...the _Fiernes Curtain_ is up, so I know _that's _not a dream."

"The hell is a _Fiernes Curtain_?" Cheet asked.

"It's the name we gave to that damned firewall," Piermont replied, "Little Martaanean Forest n00b christened it. I think it sounds pretty damn sexy, but that's just me."

"_Everything _is sexy to you, Pierre," Simba sighed.

"Not everything," Piermont replied, feigning a pout, "That little purple faggot is one ugly motherfucker, I'll tell you what. Though I _do _admit that the nigga bitch is kinda sexy...I'd bang," and Cherub slapped him across the back of the head.

"What was that, Pierre?" Cynder replied, and they all turned to watch Spyro and Cynder emerge from the hall leading from theirs and Alex's room.

"Oh nothin', nothin', just um..." and he forced a cough, "Commentin' on the weather. You did a nice job last night, by the way."

"Uh huh..." she replied, taking a seat beside Alex, with Spyro taking a seat beside her. Both looked worse for wear than Piermont and Cherub.

"When'd you two get back?" Alex asked.

Cynder shrugged, "I don't know, it was like 0300 or 0400 hours...don't remember."

"What time is it now?" and he looked around for a clock.

Crash checked his watch, "0800."

"Fun..." Alex sighed, and then he winced, "Aww crap, we have school tomorrow."

"So we leavin' to Vermilion tonight, then?" Cheet asked.

"Hell no," Alex replied, "Staying down here, we'll leave first thing tomorrow."

"And then we're late again," Sonic chuckled.

"What's wrong with spending the night with your parents?" Spyro asked, "Never met them, and I know they're still alive...why do they let you just run around?"

A dark silence overcame the room before Piermont finally spoke up, "It's one of those things that you're better off not knowing, Spearow."

"We don't get along," Alex replied, "We're from two completely different worlds."

"They get along," Piermont replied with a grin, "It's just that Alex is all emo and shit and don't like to be around them."

Alex responded, simply, by glaring at his human-form mount.

"Aww c'mon now, _Alexis_, you know it's true."

"No comment," and Piermont chuckled in response.

Cynder shot up, out of breath. Once more, the nightmares had been terrorizing her, the past was haunting her again. She shook her head, blinking away the nightmares. Turning an eye towards Spyro to ensure that he was still fast asleep, she slipped out of bed, slinking outside of Alex's room and out into the empty halls. As she always did when she was startled awake by these persistent nightmares, occurring ever more frequently, she decided to go for a walk, soon finding herself at the swimming pool of a nearby community center. She collapsed to the ground, staring at her reflection in the still waters, illuminated by blue lights below its surface.

Every night these nightmares were surfacing, ransacking her mind like a tornado through the countryside. Every day they grew worse and worse, growing ever more detailed and vivid. It seemed that no matter how hard she tried, her past would not let her escape. She turned her mind over to Spyro in a vain attempt to chase away the ghosts of her past, and found herself saddened with the idea that they would never get together. She longed to ignite some sort of romantic relationship between them, and she had been giving him more hints, but he seemed oblivious to her attractions. Either that, or he was well aware of her desires, but was purposely pretending to be unable to identify them as a sort of 'easy' rejection. This thought really worried her...she thought that it was becoming obvious, but he still seemed not to notice, and she worried that he wasn't interested. Her entire life, she had felt...incomplete...like there was something that she needed in her life that she didn't have. She had later come to realize that this missing component was love. Now she was almost sure that she had found the perfect thing to fill that void...but he seemed disinterested. With him in mind, she found one claw slowly reaching down to her lower belly before...

"You okay, Cyn?" a voice spoke from behind her, and she shot up, stiff and terrified. She was aware of someone approaching her, and glancing to her left, watched Alex take a seat beside her.

She released her breath, "I'm fine...just...nightmares..."

"Must be some real fun nightmares...either that or you're a sadist."

She winced, there was no hiding or denial, she'd been caught, and she shrugged, desperately searching for a way to claw out of this embarrassing situation with her dignity intact, "Hey...sometimes a girl needs some time alone, y'know?"

"Can't say I do," he replied, "Then again, I ain't a girl, so..."

"What do you want, Alex?" she replied, more bitterly than intended.

He shrugged, "Just wanted to know where you sneak off to every night...now I know."

"Yes you do," she replied with a nod.

"You like, Spyro, don't you?"

She shrugged, "Yeah...a little bit."

"You tried hooking up with him?"

She scoffed, "More than you can imagine...keep dropping hints but...he just doesn't get it...I'm afraid that he's not interested..."

"I wouldn't say _that _per say. Some people are just really shy and want to be sure they're not misreading signs, that's kinda how I am."

An awkward silence fell between them, before Cynder tentatively asked, "Do you have a woman in your life, Alex?"

He looked sadly towards the water, cold, blue eyes distant, "No."

"Why not?"

"Combination of me too terrified to approach a girl for fear of rejection, and the fact that I don't really have _time _to settle down with someone. Besides, I'm still a kid, and I doubt any relationship would be permanent, most girls my age don't care about hooking up with 'the One', or so I've noticed anyway."

"What is your ideal woman? Just as a question."

He shrugged, "I don't know...never really thought about it..." then, "I guess one who's independent, not afraid to get her hands dirty. Someone who's not too clingy, but at the same time is there for me when or if I need her..."

"You particular about looks?"

"Nope."

"Not even a little bit?"

"Well, I mean...I'd want one that's attractive, but I don't need some painted broad who strives to be thin as a toothpick and drop-dead gorgeous. I find natural beauty better than artificial beauty."

"Define 'attractive'."

He shrugged again, "I don't know...never really thought about it, to be honest. It's something I'll know when I see."

Silence fell between them before, "Random question..."

"Sure, what's up?"

"Tell me," Cynder began, "If one of Alpha Company came up to you and said they liked you...what would you say or think?"

He chuckled, "Don't know if you realized, but we're severely lacking in humans here."

"I know," Cynder replied, "Didn't say they had to be human, did I?" and she smiled sheepishly.

"So...like if you or Cherub, or Kiara, Nala, one of _those _girls came up to me?"

She nodded, "Yeah, said they wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with you."

"I guess it depends really. I mean, in case you didn't realize it, but there's a certain stigma behind humans and animals hooking up."

"I know...but since you don't really seem to care about peoples' opinions anyway, would you do it?"

"Couple up?"

"Yeah...or mate."

"I might," and he grinned, "Why you asking all these questions, you harboring feelings?"

She scoffed, barely concealing a blush, "No! I'm just curious...we never get a chance to talk, and I never see you showing any interests in girls, unlike others of your age and species, that's all. Wanted to make sure you aren't like asexual, or gay, or bi, or anything."

"Nah, I'm straight, not particular. In the market, sorta, for a girl, but not real eager to get one, willing to wait until the 'right one' comes along."

Silence befell them again before Cynder asked, changing the subject, worried about pressing any more into it, "What do you think I should do about Spyro?"

"If you like him, why don't you just tell him bluntly?"

"Because I don't know how he'll react...he's my only friend, Alex, I...I don't want to lose him."

"Am I your friend?"

This caught her off guard, and she turned to face Alex, staring at her, appearing hurt. "Of course you're my friend!" she replied with a smile, "I mean...I guess he's my closest friend...does that make sense?"

"Yeah, you've known him the longest, so naturally, you'd care about him the most."

"Yeah, exactly."

When silence fell between them yet again, Alex, with a grunt, stood up, stretching and saying, "Well...I guess I should leave you alone...sorry to interrupt your...personal 'me' time."

She chuckled, "Hey, it's fine, you can stay if you want, not like there's any interest in it anymore."

"Sorry to scare you, sorry for killing your boner."

She genuinely laughed here, "Why do you keep saying sorry, you didn't do anything wrong, all you're doing is making me feel bad," but her tone was light.

"Sorry," he said again, and she playfully slapped him.

"Stop it, I mean it..." she replied, feigning a whine.

"Okay, okay, you win, you win," and he headed back towards the hall leading back towards his room.

"You're leaving me?" she called after him.

"Nothing really to do or say, is there?" he replied, "Besides, we got school tomorrow, don't wanna stay up and be late...again."

"All right..." she replied, feigning disappointment.

"Just...don't stay up too late, okay?"

"I won't," she replied, smiling.

"Goodnight, Cyn, love ya, girl," and he left.

Heat surged throughout her body, concentrated specifically in her loins, and she groaned, staring towards where he left for several minutes afterward. Blushing heavily, a smile on her face, she decided to resume her previously interrupted activity, enjoying the mental image of _both _of her crushes spending quality time with her.

"Any idea on the unknown guy responsible for the attack, yet?" Alex asked, entering the makeshift command center. Elliot was standing over a technician, fully immersed in whatever was on the computer screen. The rest of Alpha Company had stayed back, Spyro and Cynder were catching up on missed rest, and he had arrived to check up on things alone.

Without looking up, Elliot replied, "Negative...all our searches have come up clean. I don't know how the hell this guy managed to dodge the feds his entire life, but he apparently doesn't exist. The closest we got to a lead was a fragmented document that had been deleted from a military server Christ knows how long ago. Could be him, or could be a hiccup in the system, not sure, there wasn't enough information in the stub to really get anything useful...but we're still lookin', don't worry, Vaughn."

"You found any trace of the Tartarus Unit yet?"

"Heh," and he scowled, "Unfortunately, no. Rest be assured, once I find them, I'm gonna put a bullet in each of those faggots' heads myself."

"Well, before you engage them, make sure you dose up first."

He chuckled, in response, then looked towards the Commander, standing erect and staring towards him, wearing a smug grin. Instantly, Alex felt the queer sensation of something inching its way into his mind. He abruptly pushed out the foreign entity and locked down his mind.

"Looks like you've already did, and got in a little training while you were at it."

"Indeed I did, Vaughn. Shoulda told me what the serum is like, if I woulda known it was this bad ass, I would have dosed up a long time ago."

"Thought you were always the one who wanted to do it by the book and didn't like shortcuts?"

"Well, considering the serum doubles as a vital asset to preserving our numbers and keeping our casualty list low, I would have made an exception. Only dosed up myself and a few other higher-ups, but we did order a massive stockpile of the serum so we can start getting everyone in our expansive force into the mutie club. As for practice? Well, the privates and interns are easy hunting."

"Yeah, well, Alpha will probably still have to school you on everything you need to know, also teaching you to lock down your mind to avoid enemy prodding."

"We'll get to that eventually," Elliot said, "Lemme enjoy the newfound freedoms I got while I can, shit's fun...but exhausting. Like that I can sit on my fat ass at home and do my chores without ever leaving the couch...it's so damn tiring though."

"Not surprised," Alex replied, "Telekinesis and Teleportation are very demanding abilities...you'll learn to get used to them though."

"Though I noticed that I still don't have everything you got, boy."

Alex shrugged, "From what I've experienced, every so often you'll discover a new power, if you want to call it that. The longer you're on the serum, the more abilities you get, you don't just get 'em all at once. Hell, you're making more progress than I did when I was first mutated. It was damn near a year before I discovered telekinesis, you've learned it after...what?"

"The night after, actually."

"See?"

"Then again, you also had a prototype version of the mutation serum, and didn't have nobody to show you what all you're capable of. I got the newest version, and I've seen enough shit from you guys to have a real rough idea of what it can do."

"To this day, we're _still _discovering new powers. I also think part of it is your metabolism and how the body reacts to the serum. No two people are alike, and the serum's effect on them, although similar, is not exactly the same, so of course there's gonna be differences."

"Ain't gonna start feeling impulsed to look up animal porn though, am I?"

Alex glared at him, he only chuckled, "Christ, I'm just kidding, boy. Don't need to get your panties in a knot, Vaughn."

With no news to report on the situation of the war, Alex returned to his room, checking up on his two _proteges_. Both were sleeping with their backs to each other, and Alex grinned watching them sleep. Upon closing the door, he sat down on his bed, rubbing his eyes and falling back. Staring up at the ceiling, he found his mind going over to his conversation with Cynder the previous night. At first, he was embarrassed upon stumbling upon her, but soon after, the embarrassment had dissolved into interest, once more reaffirming of his unique attractions. He thought over what she had asked, prodding him with personal questions about his love life...the way she was asking them...it was almost as if she was interested, perhaps hinting around at an interest in him, especially with such key questions as what his preferred type was, and whether or not he would act if one of Alpha Company came onto him.

Although he had a nagging suspicion that Cynder was romantically interested in him, he, out of fear of misinterpreting her signals, chose to let it go. If she truly was interested, then this wasn't going to be the only time she would try to gauge how he would react to a potential relationship with her. He was also puzzled, finding that she and Spyro also liked each other...and he wondered why she liked _him _as well, although he figured that when, if, the two dragons hooked up, all interest in him would dissipate. He wondered, for a moment, what it would be like dating a dragon, and he chuckled to himself. The idea was not surprising to him in the least, after all, there had been many a time during the awkward stages of their youth where he had pleasured his own dragon, although there was no lustful attraction to it. Setting aside these thoughts for the moment, he curled up in bed and drifted off.

The Tartarus Unit entered the Oval Office, both looking very worried. Mabao never called a meeting with his soldiers, only his general, and if they were being summoned, it usually meant that something bad was going to happen. The last time they had been summoned into conference with Mabao, it was after Alpha Company had escaped from their ambush, and they got the joy of spending a good part of the night sitting in awkward silence across from the President, staring them down, before he had finally reamed them on their failure to exterminate Alpha Company and had punished them with a three day incarceration in solitary confinement. "You called for us, Mr. President?" Observer asked.

"Yes, I did," Mabao began, and he spun his chair around to face them. His hands were crossed in front of his face, as if in prayer and his chin was resting on his fingertips. He remained in this position for several seconds before straightening in his chair, brushing back his hair and saying, "Would you mind explaining why there is a wall of fire encircling the north?"

"It wasn't us, Mr. President!" Xerxes began, "We promise!" and Observer nodded vigorously.

"I didn't say it was your fault, now did I? I asked what it was, and where it came from? Because at this point in time, my administration is baffled, so is 'Necro'."

They exchanged glances as he continued.

"You two are actively involved on the streets and with the citizens, that is why you are not on our roster and are not bearing our colors. I want to know if you've heard any gossip surrounding what that is all about. Our armor can't traverse it, that damned ring of fire literally melts anything that touches it. I've also been hearing that the Terminator Militia is establishing positions all along its expanse, and they are somehow capable of passing through it."

"We have seen activity around the wall, especially on the south line. It seems that a stone wall is being erected on either side of the wall, and there are Terminators patrolling the ramparts," Xerxes replied.

"What do you know of the wall's existence? Anything?"

Observer spoke here, "The citizens are saying that dragons put it up a few nights ago...that's all we've heard though. I don't believe it, however," and Xerxes nodded abruptly, "And the soldiers are calling it the _Curtain_, but that is about the extent of our knowledge. It seems only the Terminators know what's going on, and until we can find a way to get through that wall, we won't be able to place any moles to tell us otherwise, and our spies haven't been able to reach us."

"The latter is probably because the Terminators are undergoing some serious infrastructural changes. Any man or woman that does not swear fealty to old General Elliot and the Terminator High Command finds themselves out of a job and deported across the wall into this wasteland. From the minimal intelligence 'Necro' has gathered, they are installing Martial Law across the nation and have been moving massive amounts of troops and supplies around the country, setting up heavy fortifications in areas of questionable loyalty, all while we are sitting here, twiddling our thumbs while we try to figure out WHY THERE IS A DAMN WALL OF FIRE AROUND THE NORTH AND WHERE IT CAME FROM!" regaining his calm demeanor, Mabao continued, "I don't pay you to sit around screwing each other, I pay you to find out the holes in our Intelligence received from 'Necro', that is all I ask of you. Your job is easy, 'Necro' is the one who is forced to go into the fire to steal from their heaviest fortifications. _YOU _two on the other hand, can get on the streets and mingle and gossip with the citizens, that is why I specifically excluded you from the _Maxia_'s roster, and why you sit upon a lenient dress code. You are not soldiers, per say, you are mercenaries, independents with the contract of a lifetime: low taxes, free food and housing, a general's income for each of you...yet you cannot, for the life of me, tell me what I need to know."

"But...uh...sir..." Xerxes began nervously, "We are trying! Honest! The citizens are in the dark as much as everyone else, Terminator Command operates entirely behind closed doors. Their grunts are given orders with no explanation as to why and are told to follow them. We have spent the past three days loitering around their positions as much as we can without attracting suspicion, but no one knows anything."

"Then put all those years you spent with your secret meetings, unknown to your parents, to good use, infiltrate their base and get me what I want to know! Now, you two are dismissed, and do me a favor, don't disappoint me again."

"What did you want us for, Elliot?" Spyro asked as the Terminator High Command entered the conference room. Elliot had excitedly summoned them to a meeting, but would not tell them why, desiring to tell them personally.

"Good news," Elliot replied, deeply inhaling from his cigar, opening a bottle of wine and pouring each of them a glass.

Alex looked at his with a confused glance, "Elliot, I'm too young to..."

"Just chug it down, Vaughn, we're celebrating!"

"What the hell got your boner up?" Piermont asked.

"Received news from Mayor Greenbloom of Toontown, she's approved of our proposition and has surrendered all management to us. Congratulations, Vaughn, you successfully united the Quads under a single banner."

Alex grinned, letting out a booming "Ura!" before turning to face his companions, "Ever since we seized control of Junior Town from the LKA, I've been jumping through hoops trying to get all four Quads to unite. It's been a rocky road, but it looks like shit's finally paying off," and he turned to face Elliot again, "You think you can send some of our newly mutated grunts up to the surface to start enclosing all four cities in a wall?"

"A wall? The hell you expecting a buncha grunts to do?"

"Terrakinesis," and he illustrated by concentrating on one of the polished stones in a flower pot on Elliot's desk, first lifting it into the air, then glowing a faint olive color as he used his terrakinesis to manipulate the earthen elements within the stone, forcing it to change into various shapes, "Have them rise a great sandstone wall to completely encircle the Quads, a hundred feet tall and fifty feet thick, make it tall, mighty, and menacing, but also flat on top so that we can have patrols along its surface, like watchmen on the ramparts of castles in the old medieval stories, like Hamlet.

"And how are walls gonna protect us? There's a reason why we don't use castles any more, they don't stand a chance against modern artillery."

"Simple, harden the stone with dragonfire, then put up some 'reefer' autoturrets around it, make it look pretty. New Alexandria will be both mighty and beautiful, she will be an impenetrable symbol of our army, our struggle, and our pure, unadulterated strength, a role model for the rest of the world, and she will be the shining jewel of the Terminator Militia."

"New Alexandria?" and he smirked, "You renaming the Quads?"

Alex grinned, "Of course, or would you rather we keep calling 'em the 'Montana Quads' or Cartoon City?"

"Point..."

"Today begins a new era for the Terminator Militia, we will finally remove our training wheels and see how we fare on our own. We will find out whether or not all the years we've put into this force will pay off, or flop miserably."


	10. Chapter IX: Graveyard Shift

_**Chapter IX**_**:**

**-''Graveyard Shift''-**

**-Beneath New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**04 May 2009**_**-**

**-**_**0714 Hours**_**-**

"_Alex..." she cries, a pained whistle in her voice, "Come back...please...come back...I need you...to save me...where are you? Please...come back...save me..." her tragic pleas evolve into a pained scream, fading away into heavy, blubbering sobbing._

_An electric jolt is sent through his body, and she screams again before..._

...Alex shot up, out of breath. Cynder, who had been standing by his bedside, paw outstretched, flinched at his sudden awakening. "Alex," she asked, "Are you okay?"

He wiped his sweaty face with his forearm, shining in the blue-hued sunlight penetrating the room. "I'm fine..." he finally managed, catching his breath and shaking his head, "I'm fine..."

"What happened? Who was that?"

Alex shook his head, "I...I don't know...but I dream about her all the damn time."

"You think she's real?" and he thought he could tell a hint of jealousy in her voice.

"I'm not sure," and he shook his head, "I honestly don't. These dreams...these nightmares...they keep persisting...they won't leave me alone. She seems so familiar...but yet so alien I just...I don't know."

"Do we know a name?"

He shook his head, "I don't even know what she is, if she's even human or not...all I have are these voices...no images, yet anyway."

"I wonder who she is?"

Alpha Company piled into the makeshift command center, where Elliot was browsing through a stack of papers. "You called?" Alex asked the general, who glanced up at them.

"Indeed," he replied, straightening and waddling over to them, "I have a task that requires a couple of you."

"You know who you're sending?" Cynder asked.

"Nope," he replied, "But I think it should be High Command, what we're dealing with is something...well let's just say that I need someone who I know can think ahead and plan accordingly, regardless of whatever variable is thrown at them, this is a very critical mission."

"What's the mission?" Alex asked.

"Classified," he responded, "High Command only."

Alpha Company turned to face the Commander, who, with a grunt, dismissed them. Once only Alex, Spyro, Cynder, and Piermont remained in the room, Elliot led them over to the conference room, letting them inside before entering himself, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Kay, so what's all the hush-hush bullshit about?" Piermont asked, plopping down in a chair and propping his feet on the table.

"Assassination," Elliot replied, mouth twisting into a grimace, "I need two of you to infiltrate DC, currently under Martial Law, weaken some of their defenses for an attack we're planning in a couple of days, and assassinate Mabao in the process."

"I'll go," Alex grunted.

"I'll go, too," Spyro added.

"Hell no!" Piermont growled, "If anyone is going, it'll be me and Alex, we're the most experienced here."

"Yes," Spyro began, "But unlike _you_, Pierre, I don't try to raise suspicion," and the purple dragon turned to face Elliot, "If you send Alex and I, we can go down there, pull it off, then be out before daybreak, I may not have experience in stealth missions quite like this...but I have experienced infiltration, espionage, and sabotage...just not against enemies like these."

"I agree," Alex replied, "Spyro can use the experience," and he grinned, "Personally, I'm looking forward to putting a bullet in that son of a bitch's head."

Elliot nodded, "Hold on a sec, Pierre may like to shoot shit up, but Mabao's most elite will be there...Spyro's a rookie, can we _really _trust him to pull this off?"

"Gotta give him a chance," Alex growled, "He needs the experience, and last I heard, most of Mabao's forces are stretched thin across the country, clashing with our defenses along the south side of the _Curtain_ and trying to find a way through. He may have some elites there, but I doubt they'll be too difficult to take down, most of the grunts are out."

Silence for several moments before, "Guess you have a point, Vaughn."

"So what's Intel say?"

Elliot sat down at an open laptop, idling on the desk, tapping away on the keyboard. With a flash, his desktop appeared on the wall across from the table, and they turned to face it. He pulled up a group of maps and reports, saying, "Our spies have been monitoring the city for the past couple of weeks. Since Mabao's declaration, not only has DC gone under Martial Law, but they've established a perimeter around it. The wall is almost complete, last I checked. There have also been a lot of movement over the past several days, artillery and armor brought into town, we think he's upping the city's defense against an attack.

"Now, Gamma, Delta, and Epsilon Companies, with a little help from Beta and, hopefully, Alpha, are planning on launching an assault on the city within a few days, try to cripple as much of the _Maxia_'s heart and brain as we can. However, before we can even _think_ about starting our attack, we need to get someone in there to gauge the exact level of security there, and maybe cripple some of these tools of war we've seen shipped around lately. Bonus points if you can find a clear opportunity to assassinate Mabao, though his life isn't risk the High Command. Objectives are pretty clear-cut and simple, breach the perimeter, cripple any artillery batteries, staging yards, fueling stations...pretty much anything they can use for their war machine, maybe kill their backup power supplies so that they can't operate once we knock out their grid during the preliminary barrage before our invasion, find some documents, war plans, rosters, basically any Intelligence that could give us an insight into what exactly they have readily available, and if you can, get into the White House and assassinate Mabao.

"We'll drop you a few miles outside of DC, but after that, you're on your own. I would not doubt if they're watching all open communications lines in the immediate vicinity, especially channels the DoD knows we operate on, to ensure we don't try to uppercut them. Once you land, you will _have _to go dark and stay off the radio as much as possible. Hopefully, this is an overnight mission, one night only, and we'll be dropping you pretty close to our own attack, to give the enemy the least amount of time to catch on to our plot and recover as possible. Once you achieve your objectives, find a way to contact our force, which will be camping nearby, so we can come in and pick you up before the shit hits the fan. You boys think you can do this?"

Alex nodded, "Roger."

"We can do it," Spyro replied with a firm nod.

Elliot grinned a toothy smile, baring his tobacco-stained teeth, "Excellent! We're eying tomorrow night for the op, and our invasion will happen the next morning at dawn...figure you might have six to eight hours, give or take, to get in, do your thing, and get out. Now, with this in mind, you are dismissed. We'll go over this again tomorrow before you head out, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Alex and Spyro replied in unison.

"Beautiful! Now get going...and remember, this is classified, you can't tell the rest of Alpha this."

"Got it."

As they exited the conference room, making their way back to the hall leading towards their rooms, Piermont growled beneath his breath, "Still don't understand why Spearow gets to go in and _I _can't!"

"Because you have way too much fun scaring the shit out of people, and Elliot can't trust you to keep under the radar," Alex responded in an offhand manner, "Frankly, I don't blame him, and I woulda made the same choice."

"You bastard."

"Love you, too."

That night, Spyro awoke, finding himself alone in bed. Sitting up and stretching, he blinked away the sleep, looking around, "Cynder?" he whispered into the dark, "Cynder, you here?"

When she didn't respond, he hopped down onto the ground, quietly opening his bedroom door and slipping out into the main room. Alex was on top of the blankets, splayed out on his belly, fast asleep, clad in only a white undershirt and his boxers. Spyro blinked around, his eyes adjusting to the darkness until he remember his mutation-given night vision, with another blink of the eye, the world adopted a bright, green-tinted hue as he activated it. Cynder was nowhere to be found.

Slightly concerned, he approached the bulkhead door, finding it unlatched, and glancing around, he slipped outside into the dimly lit hall, deactivating his night vision. He navigated the halls, soon finding himself in a community center-like section, completely devoid of light, with the only illumination provided by the aqua blue lights set into the bottom of the swimming pool. Cynder was sitting at the edge of the pool, staring down into the water. Her tail was hanging loosely over the edge, the tip of it brushing across the surface.

"Everything okay, Cynder?" Spyro asked her, approaching.

She stiffened, then turned to face him, alarmed glance briefly taking an air of relief before immediately adopting a blush of embarrassment. "Spyro!" she exclaimed in surprised, "Um...what are you doing awake?"

"I should ask you the same thing..." he replied, approaching her, "What's going on? Is everything all right?"

She nodded vigorously, "Everything's fine...just..." and she looked away, "Nightmares again..."

"Your past?"

She slowly nodded, "No matter how hard I try, I can't shake them...it's going to be very lonely without you with me tomorrow night."

He shrugged, "It won't be long, I promise."

He sat beside her, following her gaze. The only sound was the muffled hum of the pool cleaner. Finally, Cynder broke the silence, saying, in a shy, barely audible tone, "There are some things that I feel like I should tell you..." she sighed, "Especially in the event something happens tomorrow...I don't want to feel guilty."

"What's bothering you?" he asked, deeply concerned.

Her sad, longing eyes never left the water as she began in a slow, steady voice, "You know, my entire life has been one hell after another...I feel guilty about everything that I did, about all the trouble I put not just you, but the Guardians through, too...the things I did are unforgivable."

"I don't blame you, Cyn...you had no control over yourself."

"There's more to it than just that, Spyro!" she replied in an upset tone, "It's just..." and she sighed again, "I actually...I _enjoyed _the thrill of combat, I became almost addicted to the rush...and then you appeared and I...it turned my whole life upside down," and she turned to face him, "Spyro...I know that I have done a lot of bad things...and I know that I have caused a lot of trouble to you...do you forgive me?"

"Of course I do," he replied, smiling and nuzzling her, "Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend."

"Despite everything I did?"

He nodded, "We all make mistakes...the difference is whether you continue making those same ones, or you learn from them, and use your rough life lessons to become a better person, which I believe you have."

"Really?"

He nodded, "Yep, what's wrong? Why don't you think so?"

She shrugged, "I just...I don't know, I feel so terrible...and I wonder if these nightmares are there to remind me of what I've done."

"I don't think that's the case at all," he interrupted, "I think that these nightmares are the result of your stress. A lot is going on in the world right now, we're involved in a lot of complicated and scary stuff. You know, a lot is happening right now, and I think all of this stress, both internal and external, is stockpiling on you, which is what's giving you the nightmares. You've been fighting your past for a while now, plus with us in this war now, and the fact that I can tell you're really fighting over what is right or wrong, whether to be black or white in a world that is morally gray...it's stressing you out. I think that once you either get used to what's going on or it goes away, you'll find the nightmares going away, too. I don't blame you for anything...and I've already forgiven you, I told you that the night after you were purified."

Silence fell between them before Cynder hesitantly asked, "Spyro, tell me something..." and he looked towards him, eyes sad, "Why did you save me?"

He was genuinely at a loss for words. In truth, he had no idea _why _he had chose to save her, it had been a compulsory reaction, completely involuntary. For several minutes, through which Cynder waited patiently for a response, he finally managed, "I think it was because I saw something in you, something far from evil...I saw a friend, and I saw my brood mate, regardless of how much time we had actually spent near each other. I could sense you were a familiar, and I found that I cared for you, in ways that I can't really explain..."

"Do you love me?" she suddenly interrupted, driving him silent.

He instantly faced her, in shock, "What did you say?"

She blushed, "Do you love me?"

"I...I..." and he felt a warmth surge through his body, making him feel ill; his heart was fluttering.

"I love you..." she admitted, shyly looking away, "Even when we first met, I could tell there was something special about you...being around you made me feel...different...I can't really explain it. At first, I thought it was anger or hatred...but it wasn't until you and the Guardians took me in, that I realized that it was love...I love you, Spyro, I have for a _very _long time, I was just..." and she shrugged, "I was too afraid to admit it...I didn't want to lose you as a friend, and I was afraid that if I told you the truth...you would hate me...but at the same time, I was hoping that you felt the same towards me, or at least, would understand how I felt..."

"I would never hate you, Cynder," he replied, aghast that she would think such a thing, "Nothing you could ever do or say could make me _hate _you."

"Do you love me?" she asked again, worried.

He was at a loss for how to respond, until, by compulsion, he stepped towards her, kissing her on the mouth. Upon the contact, he felt a spark shoot between the, her body stiffened and ran cold, and she gasped, eyes wide in shock. When he broke the contact, stepping back and looking away in embarrassment, he asked, "What does that tell you?"

She smiled with relief, her eyes bright, happy, and full of a joyous love. Her entire body radiated with an intense warmth, and she never felt happier, all her fears and worries were for nothing, and she pounced upon him, hugging him tightly and kissing him repeatedly, "I love you..." she said in a hurried tone, "I love you, so much, Spyro..."

"I love you, too, Cynder," he replied, smiling.

He remained on his back, with the she-dragon, her belly hot to the touch, on his own, her limbs wrapped tightly around him. He lay there, holding her, overjoyed at her admission, overjoyed at their contact, and overjoyed that they felt the same way towards each other.

"I've been meaning to tell you that for a long time..." he whispered to her, "I was worried you wouldn't like me back."

"I do...oh, I do, Spyro," she replied, crying into his shoulder, nuzzling him, "I'm so sorry...for everything..."

"Don't be," he replied, wiping her face with one of his claws, "You've done nothing wrong."

Once they had regained their composure, kissing again, she playfully punched him in the shoulder, "I swear to God, after this night, you BETTER not die on me!"

He smiled, kissing her back, "Oh, don't worry, I won't."

"I love you," she whispered to him, smiling.

"I love you, too."

While their Hornet approached the landing zone, Elliot turned to face Alex and Spyro, "You boys sure you got this?"

"Course," Alex replied, "We'll get it done."

"You better take care of yourself, Vaughn, we can't afford to lose you,"

"How sweet..."

"Don't let it get to your head. I'm trusting you know what the hell you're doing...don't disappoint me and get your sorry ass caught like you did with 'No-Tongue'."

"Roger."

"Cause I doubt the Bandicoot will be as eager to save your clumsy ass."

"Point taken."

"Now, you boys have seven hours to do this, you got it? Once you got everything done, get back here and pop some smoke so we can get back down here to pick you up for extraction. Once time is up, our guys are gonna start rolling in to claim this polished piece of crap for the Southern March, so you _better _make sure you're out before the bombs start fallin', else you are gonna find yourself in one _hell _of a mess."

"Got it."

"I mean it, _don't _disappoint me, Vaughn. We got a lot riding on you and your _prot__é__g__é_, don't muck it up!"

Tails, their pilot, glanced back to them, "ETA 10 seconds, you guys ready?"

"Let's do it," Spyro replied.

The Hornet lowered to a hover a yard above the flat, grassy hilltop, allowing Alex and Spyro to dismount. "Be careful!" Elliot growled, slamming the door shut behind them and slapping the side of the machine, signaling take off. Spyro and Alex watched as the Hornet raised to the nighttime, starlit sky, disappearing over the treetops. Above, the moon's phase was new, and the world was eerily silent, and extremely dark in the heart of the forest they had landed within, with some faint light emitting from the wall of dragonfire north of them leaking through the trees.. The dawn-to-dusk street lamps along the road snaking along the base of the hill were not activated, the fiery light of the distant _Fiernes Curtain_, was bright enough to keep them off.

The duo walked down the hill, emerging through the wood and onto a hill overlooking the distant city, silhouetted behind the backdrop of the immense, staggeringly bright wall of dragonfire that surrounded the northern half of the United States, which they were now outside of. The grass beneath them was a bright yellow, and the earth was hard as a rock, drought had plagued both sides of the _Curtain_, an unintended side effect of the semi-controlled heat it emitted that managed to leak through the Realm Dragons' wards, for several miles past it. They crouched on the hilltop, Alex withdrawing his binoculars and zeroing in on the brand new, automated, steel gates of the new, stone walls encircling Washington DC.

"I see a lotta guys..." Alex began in an unsure tone, then turning to face his _protégé, _he asked with a grin, "Ready to kick some ass?"

Spyro nodded firmly, "Let's do it."

"Roger, let's move."

Upon reaching the base of the hill, they avoided the roads, running parallel to them towards the city walls. There was far too much traffic for them to get in without arousing suspicion, so they would have to find an alternate mode of passage.

"Elliot says this whole thing is enclosed?" Spyro asked.

"From what I've heard, yeah."

"How the heck do you expect us to get passed then?"

"Simple, bud, climb it," and he chuckled.

Half an hour later, they reached the walls, and standing at the base, looking up, Alex realized that they were a lot higher than he had originally thought, protruding from the ground nearly fifty feet.

"How in the hell did they manage to build this in a month!?" Spyro asked, "Especially around the whole city?"

"Wouldn't doubt Mabao's got a blank check," Alex grunted, "You'd be surprised what you can do with bottomless pockets of cash."

"So...no offense, but I think you're climbing idea is out of the picture..."

"And it's too dangerous to fly."

"More than that," Spyro sighed, "The wind's against us, I'd splat into the wall a thousand times before I managed to get over."

"Well...any ideas?" and Alex turned to face him.

"Nope..." Spyro replied, "Then again, you're the veteran here, I'm just following the leader."

Alex's mouth twisted into a grim smile, sarcastically replying, "What an _excellent _way of approaching an obstacle."

"Well, sorry, but I haven't quite shed my trainee badge."

"Then maybe bringing you wasn't necessarily the best idea after all."

"Seriously, man? I'm still learning, all right? Cut me some slack, for crying out loud."

"I ain't gonna cut you some slack when _lives _depend on what we do here tonight, Spyro. I'm sorry, but you don't seem to realize how this mission affects our future. The slightest mistake could end the war in Mabao's favor, we can't afford to make mistakes."

"I'm sorry..."

"_Don't _apologize!" Alex hissed, "You don't submit to me! You need to stand your ground and hold your own, that's one of the first things of leading an army. You need to have a plan, a strategy, before you jump right into the operation, and you_ need _to be willing to make up for anything that could happen to throw you off."

"Fine then, what the hell do you expect us to do? Cause I got nothing."

"Heh..." and Alex nodded, "I see a way to get passed, but I'm gonna let _you _tell me."

"Seriously!? You're sitting here telling me that I'm not ready to be here, and you expect _me _to get us through here? Now's not the time to test me!"

"Gotta learn to work under pressure, buddy," and he nodded towards the wall, "Take a look, you see what I see?"

Spyro sighed, turning to face the wall again, shaking his head. For several minutes, he stared at the wall, trying to figure out what Alex was seeing.

"Anytime now, we're on a schedule remember?"

"_Then you think of something!_" Spyro hissed, "Or tell me what you see!"

Alex sighed, hanging his head and closing his eyes in disappointment, "Look," he replied, in a bitter tone, and Spyro realized he had failed, and pissed off his CO in the process, "You see that pipe?"

There was a sewer pipe running through the base of the wall, set into a ditch surrounding the obstacle. The pipe was grated, and seemed to go down further into the ground, with a diameter of about two or three feet.

"Yeah? What about it?"

"Where do you think it goes?"

"The sewer."

"Where does the sewer run?"

"Beneath the city..." Spyro began, his eyes widening in realization, "Through the wall..."

"Exactly..." Alex sighed with relief, "Now, you thinking what _I'm _thinking?"

Spyro turned to face him, grinning victoriously, and nodding, "Slip in through the sewer? We can probably fit..."

"Thank you!" he replied, "Maybe there's still hope for you yet..." and he hopped into the ditch, grabbing onto the bars and pulling...they were sturdy and did not want to move. Alex stepped aside, nodding towards the purple dragon, "Flame 'em, see if you can melt the bars."

"Got it," Spyro replied, trotting over to the grate and breathing a tiny puff of flame over the bars. Alex shielded his eyes and abruptly looked around as the bars began to glow before finally melting into a puddle on the ground, instantly steaming against the cold water of the ditch and hissing as it cooled.

"Right, let's go," and Alex crouched to the ground, clambering into the pipe. He stood at the edge of the vertical drop, glancing down the pipe towards the catwalk at the bottom of the shaft, "Looks about...eh...fifteen, twenty feet...and he dropped down the pipe, landing with a grunt on his feet and righting himself, stepping forward.

Spyro dropped down behind him, his nostrils flaring, "Egh...it smells down here."

"That, my friend, is the smell of shit, welcome to the sewer, river of human waste...among other things..."

"Fantastic...couldn't go somewhere nicer?"

"Welcome to war, Spyro, sometimes you gotta put yourself through the most unpleasant things you can imagine, and even your worst fears in order to complete the mission."

"Great..."

They moved forward, before Alex suddenly leaped back, "_Jesus!_"

"What?"

"Fucking hell!"

"What? What's going on?"

The Commander aimed his modified AK47 towards a section of the catwalk and wall, swarming with maggots. Clicking on a flashlight mounted to his weapon, he aimed towards the ceiling, crawling with the little white grubs that dropped to the floor, "Fuck me..."

"What? They're just grubs."

"Damn it..."

Spyro chuckled, "What's wrong? Afraid of a few creepy crawlies?"

When Alex's face paled, Spyro's grin collapsed into a sober frown, "Oh...you are..."

The Commander looked around for a way to bypass the nest, but when he saw no other way, without detouring through the filthy water beneath them, he groaned, leaping over the nest and landing on the other side, violently shaking himself to ensure nothing was on him, "There anything on me?"

"Not that I see," Spyro replied, casually hopping over the pile, walking around the Commander to check, "You seriously afraid of a few grubs?"

"Maggots, worms, slugs...fuck them all," he spat, "Let's just find a way back to the surface."

The purple dragon grinned mischievously, "Welcome to war, Alex, sometimes you gotta put yourself through the most unpleasant things you can imagine, and even your worst fears in order to complete the mission."

"Fuck you."

Half an hour later, they reached a ladder accessing a manhole leading back to the surface. Alex was the first one up it, and he grunted as he lifted the cover, finally moving it enough that he could slip out, extending a hand to pull Spyro out. Once both of them were out of the sewers, Alex nodded towards Spyro, crouching down, "Help me move this thing back."

The cover replaced, they ran out of the streets and into the shadows of an alley. Keeping close to the shadows, they advanced up the alley, and once they reached the end of it, Alex held up a hand to still them, slamming both himself and Spyro forcefully against the brick wall of a building. "Ow!" the dragon spat, "What the heck was that..." but Alex held a hand forcefully against his mouth.

"Shh..." he whispered, and he closed his eyes, listening. Spyro relaxed, suddenly hearing male laughter. They remained in place as a group of guards strolled past them, conversing. Once they had passed, Alex moved out of cover, Spyro in close pursuit, moving up the street and diving into the nearest alley. "All right," Alex began, "We need to find the artillery battery. Elliot said there were...three I think...that our reconnaissance planes saw earlier today.

"Great...we'll spend all night just _looking _for them."

"Nonsense," Alex replied, "If we can find a command post, we can probably find information on the locations."

"Great...where do we start."

"Dunno, you're on point," and Alex stepped behind the dragon.

Spyro sighed, "Great...follow the leader I suppose..."

They followed the street, dodging patrols, eventually finding themselves in a staging yard. A command post had been established in a café at the corner of the grounds, and upon their arrival, they spied as many of the tanks roared to life. They barely managed to dodge into cover before a column of _Maxian_-controlled Abrams tanks rolled past them, heading in the direction from which the duo had come. When the last tank pulled out, they slipped into the yard, now mostly empty. A few guards patrolled the grounds, but they merely ran into the yard of a nearby building, taking cover at the rear of the building. A grassy path ran behind the encircling buildings, giving them a straight shot to the café's backyard.

Upon reaching it, Spyro placed himself against the chain link fence running around its back, allowing Alex to use him as a stepping stool and climb over the fence. Soon after, Spyro merely hopped over it, landing on the other side, and both of them ran across the cracked, weed-ridden pavement, hiding behind the dumpster. Checking to ensure the coast was clear, they ran across it and plastered themselves against the cracked adobe facade of the building, walking along it until reaching an open window. Praying that no one was waiting for them, they climbed over the wall and into the storage room of the building, hiding to either side of the doorway. Alex peeked out, the room beyond was large and open, with four officers standing and chatting around a group of tables that had been pushed together.

Resorting to telepathy to communicate, Ale began, _All right, this is what we're gonna do...when I say go, we're gonna slip out and hide behind the nearby pillar. We're gonna walk opposite sides around the room then, and sneak up on the guards. I'll take the left two down, you take the right two._

Spyro nodded in response.

_Go!_

They both reached their destinations, hitting the ground and advancing towards the guards. _You in position? _Spyro asked him.

_Roger_, Alex replied.

_On your word_.

_Go!_

They both launched up in unison, with Alex smashing the heads of his two guards together while Spyro swiftly knocked out one of his guards with his tail, putting the other one in a sleeper hold. All four guards down, they stood up, examining the cluster of tables. Various city maps had been spread out upon it, "Ho! Momma!" Alex replied with a chuckle, "Goldmine!" and he snapped pictures of the various maps with his phone, sending them as encrypted messages to Elliot.

"Well...this takes care of all the hard work for us..." Spyro replied, pointing towards three specific points of the city maps, marked by red circles and identified as 'Site A', 'Site B', and 'Site C' respectively, "You think these are the batteries?"

"Wouldn't doubt it," Alex replied, "All we need to do is find them and neutralize 'em."

"And how, exactly, are we gonna achieve that?"

"Easy, I got C4, we plant them, then detonate the charges remotely, at once. Gonna scare the shit outta the city and put it on high alert...so hopefully we can do that once we're far away from everything."

"We don't have time to waste, let's move."

"Now you're thinking like a commander."

"Looks like the backup gennies are stored beneath the White House...guess we're going there anyway. Hoo-fucking-ray...guess God wants us to kill him."

Spyro smirked, "If you say so."

"You religious?"

"Nope, the things I've seen..." and he shook his head, "I don't know why God would let them happen, if he _did _exist, that is."

"You have no room to talk about the 'things you've seen', buddy...the shit _I've _seen will give you nightmares for the rest of your fuckin' life."

"I'm not here to play the 'who is better than who' game. Let's just get this done and over with so we can go home."

"Agreed."

Over the next three hours, they made their way to each of the designated batteries, managing to plant charges on every piece of equipment out there, without raising suspicion, minus a few close calls. With the last of the batteries rigged to blow, all that remained was to move towards the White House and assassinate Mabao. It was hour and a half before they finally reached the White House grounds. Walking around to the back of the building, they spied a tall tree with a branch hanging over the perimeter walls. Given that it was too dangerous to fly over the wall, they, instead, scaled the tree, stepping out onto the branch and dropping to the ground, diving into the nearby hedges to avoid patrolling guards who had been alerted by the shaking of the trees. Several guards arrived to search the area, their flashlights panning over the duo's hiding spot and frightening them both.

Alex held his breath, closing his eyes and hoping they didn't get caught, and Spyro thought to him, _Think I just peed a little..._

Once the guards moved on, they slipped out of the bushes, sprinting towards the building and scampering up ivy vines leading onto a balcony. Spyro hopping onto the balcony beside him, Alex quietly slid the screen of the open window up, crawling into a darkened, empty, guest bedroom, Spyro beside him. They took cover to either side of the open door leading into the hall, and nodding towards each other, they slipped through the door into an empty hall, filled only with the music of the buzzing fluorescent tube lights above.

"Now...where is that son of a bitch!?" Alex hissed.

They followed the East Wing hall until both stiffened with the sound of a cocking pistol. "So nice of you to join us..." a voice spoke from behind them. They raised their hands and turned around, finding themselves staring at four secret service agents, armed with Desert Eagles. Mabao stood behind the agents, wearing a tuxedo and his million dollar smile, arms crossed behind his back, "I've been expecting you..." he replied, in good spirits, "Although, you didn't have to try the James Bond stunt, the gate was open to you, all you had to do was let the guards outside know, they would have let you in, but hey, whatever makes you feel like a badass, I say go for it."

"How the hell..." Alex began.

"What? You didn't _honestly _believe that we would just _conveniently _leave the window open on an _empty _guest bedroom, _and _leave the alarms off, didn't you? You are predictable, Commander, very sad, actually. Though, I must say that I am honored to meet the two highest ranking members of the entire Terminator Militia in person, your reputation precedes you."

"The pleasure is all mine," Alex replied grimly, and his earpiece went off.

"Vaughn? What the hell is going on? Is everything all right?" Elliot asked, "Is that Mabao I hear?"

Mabao then stepped between the guards, ripping Alex's earpiece out and examining it, "Nice..." he said, placing it to his own ears, "Is that you, Robert?"

Silence fell on the line.

Mabao handed the device back to Alex, wearing his smile and a calm demeanor, although his eyes held a sinister glance, "Call them off, dear boy."

Alex said nothing, only glared at him, his eyes displaying a homicidal lust.

"Call them off," Mabao repeated, much more sinister now, and he withdrew his _own _Desert Eagle, taking aim at Alex's head, "Call...them...off..."

Alex smiled, and said into the mic, "Code Orange," and, with a swift, fluid motion, he withdrew the detonator from his pocket, depressing the trigger. A dozen muffled explosions resounded across the world, shaking the entire building and sending the agents scattering around the President. With a furious growl, Alex heard a loud, resounding _crack_ and he felt a sharp pain across his temple. He hit the ground, in a daze, and before he completely lost conscious he spied Mabao issuing an identical, knockout blow to Spyro's head with the butt of his pistol. The purple dragon's unconscious body slumped to the ground, blood running freely from the back of his head.

_Take them underground..._


	11. Chapter X: The Rise of the Maxia

_**Chapter X**_**:**

**-''The Rise of the _Maxia_''-**

**-Beneath Washington DC, Virginia-**

**-**_**09 May 2009**_**-**

**-**_**Time Unknown**_**-**

"Wake up!" a familiar voice boomed, and Alex's eyes shot open. He groaned, shielding his eyes against a blinding white light fixed above his head, which he, unconscious, had been facing, and lowered his head until he was facing forward, shaking his head. His face felt hot and sticky, throbbing painfully, and he blinked the drying blood away from his vision, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light. He made a move to rub his eyes, but found he couldn't move his limbs, and he, now alarmed, looked around him. He was bound and tied to a metal chair bolted to the floor, in a chamber resembling an interrogation room, only with no desk in front of him, but a hospital room setup around him, including trays with various pieces of equipment that he could not identify. He was strapped to something reminiscent of a dentist's chair, only much more uncomfortable, and he looked down at the floor around him, spying a noticeable brown stain beneath him, and he highly doubted that it was dried mud. "There you go, nice and steady now," the voice continued, and Alex groaned as he looked up to face the one-way mirror directly before him. His hair was in disarray, matted to his head with blood and sweat, and his face and clothes were covered in mud and drying blood, nearly unrecognizable.

"Where am I...?" he slurred, his head throbbing viciously.

"You are safe, for now, Commander Vaughn," the voice continued, and Alex growled as he identified who the voice belonged to.

"Mabao!" he hissed, his voice hoarse and raspy.

"Well, thanks for ending our fears of brain damage," Mabao replied in a prideful, but still humble, tone...the very same he used during his campaign, "You had us worried there for a moment, Commander."

"You bastard!" he howled, remembering what had so recently occurred, "Where's Spyro!?"

"Oh, your friend is fine, don't worry, dear boy, he's safe and sound, and you two will be reunited very soon, I just wanted to talk, that's all. Get to meet you, never a bad thing to make acquaintance with your rivals."

"I won't give you the pleasure," Alex chuckled darkly, "But if you _really _want to chat, how about you talk to me face-to-face, man-to-man, instead of hiding behind a fucking mirror like the coward you are!"

"Now, now, must we really immediately move to insults? We're all friends here, even if you _did _try to kill me."

"Cheap shooting rat bastard!" he growled, "You might have got away this time! Next time you won't be so lucky!"

Just then, the door to his room squeaked open and the President himself entered the room, holding himself high, wearing an expression that was both respectful of his opponent and triumphant over his successful sabotage of the mission. He was clad in a clean, pressed tuxedo, his hair slicked back, well-groomed and clean-shaven, and he walked over towards Alex, hands crossed behind his back as he pulled up a folding chair from a dark corner of the room and sat down before the Commander, crossing his legs, just barely out of Alex's reach.

"I must admit, I never expected to meet you in person, Commander Vaughn, it truly is an honor to meet such a decorated hero as yourself."

"Fuck off! I ain't gonna buy your sweet talk!"

"You don't need to be so rude, dear boy, we're all friends here."

"You are _not _my friend! Tell me where Spyro is!"

"He is fine," Mabao replied, "As I said before, don't worry, he's in good hands, as are you. Now, I may not be a psychologist, but I would like to get to know you. In my experience, it's always best to get to know your opponents, to learn their drive and their purpose. We all have an agenda, a reason for doing what we do, we all have a mission, no? What is yours, dear boy?"

"To put you in the fucking ground for what you did! You are poking the sleeping bear you arrogant son of a bitch! Once Elliot and Alpha finds out you've got me prisoner, they ain't gonna waste no breath in hunting you down and burning you at the stake!"

He listened intently, nodding his head, "I see..." and he stroked his chin, standing and straightening his tuxedo, strolling around the room and the bound Commander, "Understandable enough, Commander. Now, for my drive...are you aware of the United States Constitution? Separation of Church and State, right for protection against forced harboring of troops and the like?"

Alex growled in response.

"Well, I've been watching and reading the news for awhile, I went to Harvard, primarily to be a lawyer, but I also participated in politics: debates, current events, the like. I found that I was quite proficient to be a politician, and instead of utilizing my degree in law, I decided to pursue a career in politics. Ran for senator four times, failed all four. Ran for governor, I was elected and carried my state out of debt, made it respectable and prosperous, and went on to pursue the executive branch. I ran twice, finally made it the second time I tried, and here I am. I digress, anyway, so I've been following the news, from the rise of _Devha _and the _Son of Satan_, through to the birth and rise of the Terminator Militia, your exposure of the LKA to the world and subsequent destruction of such a dangerous terrorist faction. Quite admirable...if not for the other dirty little secrets I discovered about you and your paragon army. Blackmail, torture, execution of opposition, and inhumane acts upon prisoners of war and your enemies. At the same time, you had a dozen federal governments across the world, including the United States under your control...the lawyer side of me cannot let that slide. So, I decided to try and liberate this great country from the enslaving binds you had tied to it, to lead the new Union against the new Confederacy, if you will.

"I've been watching your reactions to the campaign, I have seen how you treat people you don't agree with, and I know your checkered history, Commander Vaughn. I know that many who work with you fear you, that you are ruthless, dictatorial, and merciless in action...sadistic and warmongering, too. Now, we can't have such a bad influence govern the people...it can mean nothing but bad tidings...then you go even further by tarnishing the reputation of religious faculties by aligning yourself with them, even if their preachings are in direct opposition to what you employ. I do not consider myself a religious man, but I at least have the common decency not to slander or otherwise taint the usually pure objectives of those that are. You on the other hand," and he crouched before the Commander, getting right into his face. Although he wore a pleasant expression, Alex could sense something much more malicious, much more sinister and menacing in his eyes. His breath reeked of peppermint and, faintly, of cigarette smoke, and he managed a sly grin, revealing well-brushed, but tobacco stained teeth, "_You_ don't care. _You _don't care about the harm you bring to people...the threat _you_ pose, and the danger _you_ are to everyone around you. You only care about yourself, what _you _want, what _you _like, what _you _need. The world, in your eyes, revolves solely around you and no one else. You don't care for what is done to achieve your endgame goal, the ends justify the means. I am a man of the people, chosen _by _the people _for _the people. If anything, my election should be a message to you. The people _fear_ you, Commander, do you not understand that? The people _are afraid _of you, they _don't _feel safe, and if they once had, they don't anymore...but the federal governments have been too afraid to challenge you, either too afraid or too self-centered to care. I...I am returning the United States government to what it once was, an entity that represents the people, as chosen by _them_, free of the restraints placed upon them by a _Mafia_ that calls itself a militia.

"On the surface, you are only acting in the perceived best interests of the people, you preach that everything you do is for the common good, that you are an agent of peace and hope, of unity and salvation, that all the negativity that spawns from your mindless, selfish actions are a necessary evil in pursuit of the common good. What is ironic is that religious institutions support you, whether out of fear, or pride, I am not sure...despite the fact that many of them preach that global unity is, itself, the harbinger of the apocalypse. Beneath the skin, however, each and every one of your 'heroic' actions are only in place, facades, to cover up the progression of your dark agenda. You are a master storyteller, Commander, and you are very charismatic and likeable. Despite what you say, you specialize in blackmail, espionage, sabotage, thievery, and murder to progress your 'mission', the people who you deal with on a regular basis know the truth of your deeds...you control them and their actions through fear and bribery, propagandizing to the masses that you are the Messiah. The corruption indoctrinated into you by General Plastro is strong and momentous...and there is _nothing_ that can ease the momentum of the progression of your mission. Unfortunately, I am resistant to your wiles and charms, my mind is clear and I can see through the lies and miracles, and I can see you for the false prophet that you are. Although the legends and mythos surrounding the fabled Alpha Company do have _some _roots in truth, much of them are inflated by lies and fables, and no one can prove otherwise, as the old saying goes, history is determined by the victor...and you, unfortunately, possess the strength and tactical knowledge to overcome your enemies. Even if I was misjudging you, I can tell by your reactions since the declaration that I am very much correct in my assessment...you blindly erected that wall of fire in direct disregard for the thoughts of the people who will be affected by it. Already, farms along its area of effect are withered and dead, cities are being abandoned as drought, disease, and famine drive out or thin the people in apocalyptic proportions, they cannot survive in these conditions. The land is dying and drying...thousands of animals are dead, ecosystems have been completely obliterated because of it...and you don't care. You don't care about the little man, you don't care about those who are affected, all you care about is your own security...and you call _me _the villain!"

Alex hissed in response, "You slaughtered civilians and framed us to turn the people against us and win support for your campaign. _YOU _installed fear in them! Not us! Then you rallied the masses to take to violence in the streets in order to prove our inability to defend against superior numbers from weak positions along our territory! Did you, even once, think about the families you slaughtered, the properties you and your protests destroyed, the lives you or your riots ended, in pursuit of _your _mission? You are a monster, as much, if not more so, than myself! Admittedly, our tactics on some of our operations have been questionable...but if it weren't for us, the LKA would continue to terrorize the world, and countless more bodies would be buried, families torn apart and having been dealt considerable and irreparable damage. In the end, what we did is justified, and everything is better off!"

"You have proven my point, Commander...the ends justify the means...that seems to be your philosophy. As a man whose life has been completely altered due to the actions of Alpha Company and the Terminator Militia, I know how it feels, how the men and women affected by your arrogant actions feel. Regardless of whether or not the outcome was better for the majority or not, you have done too much to be forgiven in the process, and _that _is what I strive to prevent. Declaring war on you and your kind was the only surefire way to stop you, because now that America has declared her independence from the Terminator Militia, the rest of the world will now gain the courage to do the same, and we will unite against your oppressive regime!"

Alex chuckled, "Oh, you stupid, stupid man...for being a 'man of intelligence' you sure as hell don't act like it!" and he was answered by a hardy crack across the cheek from the butt of a Colt that Mabao seemed to have procured from out of nowhere.

"My patience is wearing thin with you, Commander. I'm giving you a chance to take the peaceful way out. Surrender yourself and your army, disarm yourselves, and there won't have to be an untold number of casualties to achieve the same outcome...you won't win, Commander, the ball is in my court...as is the support of the masses."

"We will resist, and we will destroy you," Alex scowled, "Our numbers are far greater than you can fathom!"

Mabao laughed heartily, "Really now?" and he thew his arms out, as if welcoming the world, "Where are they? Hmm? I see nothing but you and that little damnable creature in the other room. Your own brethren have left you for dead here! How does _that _make you feel?"

Alex grinned maliciously, "They haven't abandoned us, they're just waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Like a viper hiding in the shadows, they wait until the opportune moment to snap at their prey, and once your guard is let down, you and your regime will burn to the ground, and we will reclaim our position in the eyes of the country and the world, all the while showing no mercy to you and your army. We will expose the truth of President Barry Mabao and the _Maxia _Regime, as we always do, and _nothing _will stop us."

"Oh, dear boy, I would _love _to see you try," and he rotated on his heels, heading back towards the door, "Enjoy your stay, I'll have someone in here shortly to escort you to your...new home..." and he chuckled as he left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

With a sigh, Alex declared to the empty room, "I really hate that son of a bitch..."

"_Do you love me? I love you..."_

"_Ruby...Ruby where are you?"_

"_Do you love me?"_

"_I do..."_

"_I love you..."_

Alex was awakened by the squeaking of the steel door into the chamber he had been bound in. He blinked away the crusted blood from his eyes and looked up, watching as two black body-armored soldiers entered the room, abruptly injecting him with sedatives, undoing his binds, tying him into a strait jacket and leading him out of the room and into the facility beyond. He realized that he wasn't in a normal prison, pipes lined the walls, the sounds of pumping mechanisms filled the air, the temperature was hot and dry, steam poured from various unknown machines, the floor itself was a metal catwalk over more endless pipes, stretched out above what seemed to be sewer water. He was led through the facility to a cargo elevator that brought him down several floors into what a stenciled pattern on the walls identified as sector 'C3'. Upon his arrival down here, he was led through several more labyrinthine halls until reaching a cell block, and he was escorted across the almost empty block to a small cell on the far end of the room. The door slammed open, and he was thrown carelessly inside, the door slamming shut behind him. He rolled onto his back and squirmed around until he could get himself into a sitting position, righting himself just in time to see the two guards leave the room into the rest of the facility.

"Dammit!" he swore, looking around his surroundings. Laying in the bottom of a set of bunk beds, he glimpsed Spyro's bloodied, unconscious form, and he picked himself up, using the bed for support, as his hands were still bound. He stumbled over to the dragon, kneeing the dragon's lower back. He groaned and turned around, blinking the dried blood from his eyes before sitting upright.

"Alex?" he asked, voice slurred, "What's going on? Where are we?" and he glanced around, suddenly becoming alert and shooting up in bed, stumbling onto the floor and running towards the bars, "Hey! Hello? Somebody? Anybody!?"

"It's no use, Spyro," Alex sighed, leaning against the back wall and sliding down to a sitting position, "Ain't nobody comin' for us, at least right now."

The dragon, hyperventilating from the panic, rotated on his heels, "Alex, what happened? What is this place? How'd we get here?"

"Settle down already, Christ..." Alex scowled, "Panicking ain't gonna do us any justice..."

Calming himself, Spyro asked again, "Where are we?"

The Commander shrugged, "Hell if I know, mate...all I know is that Mabao cornered us and our cover is blown. Wherever we are, Mabao's got us held prisoner."

"We need to get out of here!" Spyro exclaimed, "We...we...we can't die, Alex!"

"We're not gonna die," Alex spat, "We're prisoners of war! Hopefully we're treated like your average criminal, not political prisoners or P. ."

"What? Why?"

"Because prisoners of war often don't got it easy. Routines stricter than boot camp, with a hefty dose of torture and interrogation thrown into the mix. Least criminals are treated like humans when they're locked away..." Alex closed his eyes, expanding his mind and trying to contact the rest of Alpha Company...however, he found that something was keeping him from reaching them, a sort of binaural buzzing that made it impossible for him to concentrate...Mabao seemed to have figured out a way to effectively jam any telepathic contact...as concentration was a necessity in order to do anything, be it telepathy or telekinesis. Even his elemental abilities were no doubt going to be effected by the signals, as trying to utilize such a skill without full concentration was very dangerous and risky. At least at the moment, their only chance of escape was for Alpha Company to find them and break them out. At this thought, Alex spat, "That cocksucker clipped our wings!"

"What are we going to do?" the dragon asked, worried, but having at least calmed himself.

Alex shrugged, "All we can do...sit on our asses and wait for Alpha to bust us out."

"You think we'll survive until then?"

The Commander slowly nodded, "Yeah...we're too precious an asset for Mabao to just throw away so soon...he'll squeeze every last bit of information out of us before he does us in.

Spyro visibly gulped.

Alex only grinned darkly, "Welcome to being the commanding unit for the entire fucking army..." then, "Just remember this, man...regardless of what he promises you, what he claims, he will never make our lives easier for us if we break...don't fall for it. Regardless of what he puts us through, you cannot let him break you. Don't tell him anything...we will be treated no different than if we did, even then, the longer we keep from saying anything, the more value we are to him, and the more time we have to be saved before he kills us. Now, can you please, for the love of God, get this fucking vest off of me?"

"Damn it, Elliot! We can't just sit here! He'll kill them!" Cynder roared, shaken and near tears, stomping across the makeshift war room towards the general, "We need to do something!"

"There's nothing we _can _do, Cynder! And losing your fucking mind ain't gonna do anything to help you. We're doing all we can, but right now, there's not a whole helluva lot to do."

"SEND US IN THERE! We'll get them out!"

"Like hell you will!" Elliot spat, "For one thing, none of us have any fuckin' clue where that cumstain dragged the commanders, and even if we did, I would bet my left nut that it's more secure than even this friggin' city!"

"So what do we do then?" Piermont asked, concerned, but more in control of himself than the frantic Realm dragon beside him."

"Nothin' we can do until we know where exactly they are and what exactly we're up against."

"We can't attack the city until we find them."

"Yeah, I know," Elliot growled, "I've already ordered our forces to stand down and await further instruction.

"The hell did Mabao manage to get the best of them?" Crash asked.

"Hell if I know, Bandicoot," Elliot growled, stomping forward, "Still tryin' to figure that out myself."

"Hey..." Piermont suddenly began, "There any way you can track their implants?"

Elliot stopped dead and his tracks before, with a sigh, shaking his head, "Nope, already tried that, they're jamming the signal."

"How do you know?" Cynder asked.

"Because each Terminator only has one GPS implant, not two fucking hundred scattered across the city, and that's _exactly _what is apparently going on. Mabao's intercepted and scattered the signal. Don't worry though, if worse comes to worse, we'll tear that fucking city apart until we find them."

_Alex opens his eyes, finding himself on a beach. The sky is frozen at twilight, and he approaches the roaring, sapphire blue waves, stepping into the waters and allowing the waves to wash around his feet. He hears a very unique sound, the squealing of a dolphin, and he looks around for its source, all the while that alien voice continues to torment his mind...and that haunting remark..._

"_Do you love me? I love you..." followed by a pained, "Help me..."_

"_Hello?" he asks the empty world, "Who are you?"_

"_Don't leave me alone...please...don't leave me to die..." that pained voice cries, sounding female and very young._

_He looks around his environment, trying to identify the source of the disembodied voice. All at once, something slick and smooth slides passed his feet, and he leaps out of the water in shock, falling back onto the white sands of the beach. He spies two pinprick eyes staring at him from the water, and the head of a bottlenose dolphin pokes from the waters, facing him, cocking its head to the side, squeaking in curiosity._

"_Who are you?" he asks, "Are you the one that's been talking to me?"_

_Curious, he approaches the waves once again, the dolphin, its left eye clouded over, following his every move. As he steps into the water, he extends a hand towards the creature, smiling as it shied away from him, "It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm a friend?" It carefully approached him once again, nuzzling his hand so that it was petting him. For an unknown reason, he feels an overwhelming amount of love for the creature, and he cradles it in his arms, hugging it tightly._

_A feeling washes over him, as if he's embracing an old friend, and that voice once more enters his mind, _I always loved you, from the moment I first saw you...you gave me pleasure...and somehow I knew...I knew that our destinies were intertwined. I love you...do you love me, too?

"_Who are you?" he asks the voice, but remains unheard. Instantly, the dolphin slips back into the water and he feels it swimming around him, nuzzling his side, swimming beneath and around him, nuzzling his crotch with its snout, drawing a gasp from him. The creature zooms ahead, flipping upside down beneath the waves and slithering in and out of the water. It's belly is painted with a vibrant red blush, and the smooth, straight, dark line of its genital slit is pronounced, revealing the creature's sex, it was female. To either side of the larger line, he could see two smaller slits concealing what would be her nipples._

Oh, how I long to feel you once against, your body against mine...how I long for your tender touch...

_He remains in place as the creature continues to swim around him, until, seemingly fed up with his lack of response to its antics, it charges towards him, pouncing upon him. He screams as his head goes underwater, grasping for whatever he can until he finds his hands wrapping around the hard, rubbery flesh of the creature's dorsal fin. He clings, belly to belly, to the creature for dear life, and she suddenly flips over until he's on top, above water. _What is going on here? _He asks himself_

We meet in a dream...but soon, it won't be a dream anymore...

_Alarmed by the voice's sudden response, he looks around, trying to figure out what to do next, still clinging onto the dolphin. He feels a queer sensation, and is soon aware that she's rubbing her lower belly against his pelvis...masturbating against him. Long forgotten memories awaken in the depths of his mind, memories of a group of unusual visitors, a shootout in the school cafeteria, and a girl, one whose name he could not recall, smiling warmly to him, professing, in a special, nonverbal way, her love for him. A girl that, from the get go, he feels an instant attraction and attachment to, and he remembers one particular time during their stay, when they were both alone..._

Do you remember me? _the voice asks him, worried and frightened, _Are you even the same man?

_However, he ignores the voice, finding his hand stroking the side of the dolphin's body, slowly sliding down her side, across her navel...further and further down her belly...until..._

...He awoke, in a cold sweat, to the slamming of a door. Beneath him, Spyro grumbled in his own bed, shifting positions before stilling once more. Mabao, flanked on either side by two _Maxian _guards strolled down the hall with intent, heading towards their cell. With a wave of the hand from the President, the door was opened by one of the guards, and both of them entered the chamber, Mabao waiting patiently outside, hands crossed behind his back, "Good morning, gentlemen," he said in high spirits as both Alex and Spyro were forced out of bed, restrained, and dragged out of their cell, across the cell block, and back into the labyrinth of halls snaking beneath the city.

Both Alex and Spyro were led into another one of those interrogation rooms, this one significantly smaller, where they were bound to chairs and had the guards sit down in stools to either side of them. Mabao walked around them, meticulously straightening up the stained tools on the tables beside the chairs, "Today, we're going to play a little game...it's called...Whack-A-Mole," and he circled around them, "The name of the game is simple, answer all my questions correctly, and you won't up being the 'moles' in this little game, how does that sound?"

"Fuck you!" Alex swore, "We ain't telling you jack!"

Mabao smirked, "I had a feeling that you would say, that Commander. My, my, I must be psychic!"

"What do you want from us?" Spyro asked, tired and worried, despite the fact he tried to hide his fear.

"Well, it's quite simple really, I just want some real basic things...average level of security in your city, a list of your strongest allies and where to find them. Real easy information, maybe also some passwords or access codes to get into the Quads' mainframe, since I'm sure there's a goldmine of information in there. Or, we can play it the easy way, the formal surrender of the Terminator Militia to the _Maxia_, then again, who wants to play the game easily? The challenge is the best part!"

"You're not getting anything from us you cocksucking son of a bitch!" Alex roared.

"Oh my! Quite a mouth I see, not very professional, did your mother teach you to use such language?"

"You better let us go!" Spyro began, "Once our guys find out what you're doing here, they're going to make you wish you were dead!"

He grinned, "Cute...Anyway! Onto question number one...easy enough, where are citizens of the Quads at now? Or rather, where did they go after the flood?"

"Ain't gonna tell!" Alex spat, grinning, "You aren't gonna get _anything _from us!"

The president frowned, "Unfortunate, even if predictable..." and he waved towards the guard sitting beside Alex, "Give 'em a good whack for me, will you Mr. Reese?"

The guard picked up a sledgehammer, and as Alex's eyes widened with fear and realization, he could do nothing but howl in agony as the business end of the hammer smashed against his feet. Spyro screamed in terror, struggling to break free as Alex was reduced to a trembling, quivering mass instantaneously.

Mabao grinned once more, clearing his throat, "Now, you were saying, dear boy?"

The first round was the worse...but as each of Mabao's subsequent questions remained unanswered, and the duo were subjected to more and more punishment. Soon, they felt nothing but the violent throbbing of their wounds, having grown immune to them with the rush of adrenaline. The Q&amp;A couldn't have lasted any longer than an hour, but to them, it felt like an eternity. Once they began to show sign that they had grown resilient to the torture, medics fixed up their wounds, splinting and setting any broken limbs for the two commanders' serum-given abilities to heal, before they were escorted back to their cells, and left in silence for the next several hours. Without a clock nearby and having all electronics stripped from them, coupled with their depth underground and thus inability to check the time of day, neither had any idea approximately how much time passed, and they didn't know if it had been days, hours, or minutes.

Just as the day (or days) couldn't seem to get any longer, they were abruptly awakened from their rest, mere minutes after finally succumbing to it through their injuries, and led back into another torture chamber, separated this time, for the second round of questions...playing a 'game' that Mabao had titled 'The Electrician'. A steel rack, hooked up to a gasoline generator, had been erected in each room, and both Alex and Spyro had been tied to each rack via leather straps. With one battery cable attached to the generator, when they refused to answer questions or took too long to do so, the cable was grounded to the steel rack, electrocuting them in the process.

After a dozen electrocutions, Alex was too tired and numb to say anything, and Mabao, bouncing back and forth between the two rooms, taking turns questioning them and giving the other victim just enough time to cool down from their injuries before being subjected another bout of electricity, only laughed through their forced curses. "My friend," Mabao began, addressing Alex in response to a remark made by the Commander, that Mabao didn't have nearly enough tools to break them, "If you think this is all I'm capable of...just you wait until we play the _next _game, I call it...'Witch Hunt'. Here's a hint, what do you get when you mix a washtub with ice water?"

"There is nothing you can say or do to break me!" Alex forced, his voice tired and exhausted.

"Even if the games are just beginning?" and Mabao looked at him sympathetically, "Must you always be such a killjoy?"

After another round of failures, and right as they thought that they couldn't take anymore, Mabao ended the session, sending them back to the cells to recoup until they were ready to be tried again. This time, however, they were placed in different cells, at different points of the facility...Mabao was testing out what isolation would do to them, and Alex didn't doubt that until the next session, the president and his goons would do anything and everything they could in order to convince the two captives that they were against each other...one of the many tips and tricks that Elliot had clued them in on during past conversations.

"God end this quickly..." Alex muttered under his breath, laying on the floor of his cell, in the same position he had landed after being thrown inside, unable to move, his body refusing to cooperate with him.

A few days later, Alpha Company was summoned to the war room for conference with Elliot, and as they piled into the tiny room, Elliot began, "I have bad news..."

All around him, the various unknown faces at the monitors and computer terminals wore graven expressions, and, fearing the worst, Cynder hesitantly queried as to what it was.

"The _Maxia_ found our staging grounds and are amassing a large party to storm our command post. We're now living on borrowed time...as such, I am being forced to push our deadline ahead."

"What!?" the she-dragon exclaimed, "What do you mean? What do we do?"

"Only thing we can do unless we run the risk of fucking up this entire goddamn operation! Tomorrow morning, we are launching our assault on the city."

"But...but...we can't leave them behind!" Cynder exclaimed, "If we attack now and shell the city, they'll die either during our assault or by Mabao!"

"You don't think I know the situation?" and Elliot sighed, "Listen..I doubt they're on the surface, our moles in DC say that there's a sprawling labyrinth of pipes, water, and corridors that runs beneath the city...what better place to keep such HVTs than down there where Mabao has all the time in the world to do to them whatever he wants, with no risk of anyone who lacks the security clearance to see or know he has 'em. However, at the same time, we still have a chance to get them before Mabao finds out. I have confirmation that their comms are still offline, meaning we can get pretty far into the city before Mabao even discovers we've arrived. Cynder...I'm entrusting you with a tank column to run into the city before our assault. Get in there, find out where Mabao is keeping the commanders and get them out before we move in. You will have approximately two hours before we roll in, got it?"

The she-dragon nodded, and Piermont remarked, "Now wait just a fuckin' moment! How come _she _gets to command the squad? She's still the team n00b!"

"Who else is High Command that I can send in, hmm? This operation is too risky to send _ALL _of Alpha Co. in."

"Send me! Goddamn, man! I've been here since, like, almost day one!"

"Except that you ain't even an official, registered member of the militia, Pierre. Besides, I know what you like to do...and we have no room for error, and no time for you to show off. The goal is to get in and out before word gets back to Mabao and he has them executed, not to run in barking mad just to scare the living piss out of 'em. 'Sides, I have a place for you in the main assault," and the general turned to face the dark dragon again, "So, what do you say? Can I trust you to do this?"

Cynder nodded, "Of course."

"Excellent, rest up, we strike at dawn."

Sitting in his office in the presidential bunker after threats of Terminator presence in the area reached his ears, Mabao held conference with his general. The Tartarus Unit were in attendance, but had been effectively forgotten by the president, "Any news, General?" the President began.

The man, short, but built, with cold green eyes, buzzed black hair, a long scar extending from his left eye, down his nose, and to the lower right corner of his mouth, sat cross-legged in his chair, sipping from a glass of water, "Negative...the Quads have been quiet, with the exception of the occasional patrol scouting out the flood and likely whether or not its safe to return. Unfortunately, with the heat of that damned wall of fire, it's drying up fairly quickly."

"What is the approximate level of security?"

"Very high, even in its abandoned state...I would not doubt that it will be even higher once they start settling back in."

"When do you think we'll be ready to attack?"

The general grimaced, "Not anytime soon, but rest be assured, I have a plan...just give me a little more time, and I will fill you in on the strategy once I work out the variables."

"Excellent, I eagerly await updates."

"I will keep you updated, Mr. President," and he stood up, holding up his glass, "Thanks for the water," before rotating on his heels and marching out the door.

Relaxing, the Tartarus Unit turned to face Mabao, who was jotting something down on a notepad on the table in front of him, "You could have sent us in, sir, we would have make _quick _work of the city, I promise you," Observer began.

Mabao only waved him off, "You lack the experience and meticulousness I need for such a vital operation...you couldn't even kill the High Command and General Elliot when I dropped them right into the palm of your hands. There is too much risk, too much at stake, and far too many variables to take into account, which is why I'm trusting the operation in the hands of someone who is very much capable of accomplishing such a feat. 'Necro' has quite a reputation, he can and will get the job done," and he returned his attention to the notepad.

Observer and Xerxes stood awkwardly at the head of the table, casting glances for a few moments before Mabao looked up again, "What the hell are you still doing here? Get moving!"

"Uh...sir, yes sir!" Observer responded, saluting and hurrying off, Xerxes clumsily falling behind him.

Once they had left down the hall, with Xerxes having to come back to close the door behind them, Mabao, turning back to continue his writing, shook his head, "I swear, one of these days I am going to put those two inept manchildren into the ground myself."


	12. Chapter XI: Savior

_**Chapter XI**_**:**

**-''Savior''-**

**-Outside Washington DC, Virginia-**

**-**_**17 May 2009**_**-**

**-**_**0800 Hours**_**-**

"All right! Listen up!" Cynder began, addressing the gathered Terminator forces a few miles outside of Washington DC, "Our mission is to go in there and find out where the _Maxia _are keeping Commanders Vaughn and Spyro, rescue them, and get the hell out of dodge before the shit hits the fan, do you understand? We have approximately two hours before General Elliot and his invasion party gets here to level the city! Meaning that we have two hours to find, rescue, and extract the commanders! Let's move it, gentlemen!" and the dragoness climbed back into her tank at the head of the column, ordering to the driver, "Let's go."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, kicking the vehicle into gear and rolling forward, the rest of the column in tow. Although Elliot wasn't directly attacking the city yet, he had begun shelling it as part of the preliminary strike to neutralize and strain as much of the resistance as possible before the assault began.

Although Alex and Spyro's locations were unknown at the moment, there were several buildings stretched across the city that could hold information as to their whereabouts, if not the commanders themselves, and moles within the higher ranks of the _Maxia_, planted by Elliot even before the declaration of war by Mabao, informed them that, although only Mabao and those closest to him knew exactly of the commanders' locations, there were rumors circulating and unconfirmed reports of that they were being kept somewhere within the extensive underground network of passages and tunnels that ran beneath the city, so another primary goal of Cynder's was to try and find an access down into the depths and wreak as much havoc as possible on the city and its potential escapes before Elliot's arrival to finish it. As they neared the city, the first thing they noticed were unfinished walls around the area they were attacking, and a well-armed checkpoint between them and the city's interior. The unsuspecting _Maxia _moved to engage, but not before they were relentlessly gunned down by the command tank's gunner, and within minutes, Cynder's column had already broken through the checkpoint and were rolling through the empty, early morning streets of downtown DC.

"Let's start off at the top of the list," the she-dragon began, "There's a command post a few miles northeast of here, let's start there."

"Yes, ma'am," the tank commander responded, and they continued forward. A few _Maxian _patrolmen arrived to intercept them, but their small arms and rifles stood no chance against the column of seven tanks: four upgraded, World War II-era 'King' Tiger IIs-the standard tank of the Terminator Militia-and three Abrams, that composed Cynder's force. All tanks were outfitted with steel plates composed of the highly experimental 'Element X' bolted to their hulls, an extremely resilient, even if rather heavy, steel alloy that was resistant to dragonfire, commonly used by the forces of Swizzle Firma for the City Minecrawlers. Although Cynder's column was no minecrawler, the she-dragon did not think that the _Maxia_, unprepared and unsuspecting of the attack, would pose _too _much of a threat to them.

"Remember gentlemen, we're on a time limit here," Cynder began, "Don't let the _Maxia _bog us down...so good accuracy is appreciated."

"Anti-tank crews at ten o'clock, on the roof, we're out of range over here," one of the tanks called in.

"That was quick," Cynder replied, suddenly becoming slightly worried...perhaps the _Maxia _were better prepared than she had originally anticipated. In an instant, her gunner fired towards the three story building upon which the anti-tank unit had positioned itself, taking it down and collapsing part of the front of the building onto the sidewalk. Another crew at their two o'clock got a shot off, and the RPG exploded right beside them on the street, raining dust and asphalt upon them. Their gunner got this one too, and with a swear, Cynder made her way back to the entrance, climbing up the ladder and manning the M240 mounted on her King Tiger, painted in the classic WWII-era 'ambush' camouflage pattern, standard for all Terminator-operated tanks, both Tiger IIs and Abrams. The _Maxia _were arriving in thicker concentrations now, several anti-armor teams scattered around the street and in the buildings, firing upon them. While the gunner worked to neutralize the teams in the buildings, and thus out of range of their HMG, Cynder concentrated on clearing the street.

"All right!" the tank commander began, "We're almost to the first CP, you girls ready?"

Alex's eyes shot open as Mabao entered the torture chamber once again. The past two days had been especially rough, as they weren't even allowed back in their cells, both he and Spyro had been chained to the ceiling, forced into an uncomfortable and compromising position, and given little food and water, just enough to keep them alive. In addition to that, when they still wouldn't break, merely pleading for death instead, Mabao had stripped them of all meals, refusing them even water. As the hours, and what seems like days, rolled by, and they were forced through countless of Mabao's 'games', and still holding strong despite the abuse, they could tell that he was not amused, and was, in fact, becoming increasingly furious and impatient...worsening their scenario.

He had completely abandoned the 'friend' persona, instead showing only his malice, and as his personality worsened, so did his games. Thankfully, too weak from lack of sleep, nutrition and hydration, and after countless amounts of pain inflicted upon them, the wounds usually healed relatively soon after due to the mutations coursing through their veins, the pain they experienced had lessened considerably as their bodies began to grow immune to the torture, making it easier on them, but further infuriating an already homicidal Mabao.

There was a ray of hope, however...that morning was going to be different, Alex could sense the proximity of Alpha Company, and he could only smile at the realization that they were in the area, they were searching for him, and they WOULD find him. Alex only prayed that Mabao didn't get to them first, if the president could manage to lure Alex and Spyro into a trap so easily, with the Commander at least one of the most attentive to details in the entire militia, he could do the same to the others of Alpha Company a lot easier.

"You ready to talk now?" Mabao replied with a grin, walking back and forth, his hands crossed behind his back, between Spyro and Alex.

Too weak to talk, the Commander could only spit blood towards him, responded with a growl and a powerful punch in the gut by Mabao. Although many of the minor wounds dealt upon them by the president and his friends healed relatively easy, despite being inflicted on him by silver weapons, the more severe ones were taking their time. A few years earlier, Alpha Company had gained immunity to their damning silver weakness, as a new version of the serum that, produced by a fledgling 'Great Dragon' named Bleu, the last of his kind, one of the oldest known species of dragons in existence that hailed from Terminator-friendly nation of Rune in the collective cluster of medieval countries known as the Gothics, majorly weakened silver's effect on mutants. However, despite the fact that a mutant could survive exposure to silver, the precious metal still had a tendency to majorly halt and even prevent healing...it just didn't kill them outright like it used to.

"You think this is a game, boy?" Mabao hissed, in Alex's face, placing a silver knife he had picked up from the table beside the Commander up against Alex's ear, "Huh? Do ya?"

Spyro smirked, "You said so yourself we were only playing games...why'd you lie?"

Mabao straightened and turned to face the dragon, grinning widely. "Oh, my dear boy..." and he approached the dragon, placing the knife up against his belly and tracing up and down with its tip, as cold as ice, "You want a game? I'll _show _you a game!" and he, rubbing the blade against the dragon's sheathe, coaxing his red, spined, canine-like penis out, "Have you ever wondered what it feels like to be neutered?"

"Mister President, sir..." one of the guards interrupted, and Mabao stood to his full height, rotating on his heels.

"What is it?" he scowled, "I'm very busy."

"We have a problem..."

Replacing the knife carefully on the table, he turned to face his captives again, grinning maliciously, "I'll be back..." before turning around and disappearing in the hall, slamming the door shut behind him. Alex turned to face Spyro, and was alarmed to find the dragon breathing heavily, terrified, and thoroughly embarrassed.

"Welcome to Hell..." Alex managed, his voice but a hoarse whisper.

"Fucking hell!" the tank's main gunner roared, climbing back into the machine, "Nothin' in there!" and he fired the cannon upon returning to his post, blasting away the building.

"Let's keep moving," Cynder responded, "Somebody has to know something around here...the next building is a couple of miles north, s'go."

As the column continued heading down the street, gunning down any resistance rushing to meet them, Elliot called Cynder, "Any luck?"

"Negative," the she-dragon replied, "At least at the first CP."

"Well pick up the fucking pace! We're an hour out! We need you out of the area before we get in there, cause once we do, you can kiss this whole friggin' place goodbye!"

Cynder nodded, "We will."

"You damn well better! If we lose the commanders it's on _your _head, understand?"

"Roger..." Elliot severed the line, and Cynder looked towards the rest of her crew, "Elliot's pissed."

"No shit..." the tank commander replied, "Could hear him screaming...impressive."

"Yeah...deafening..."

"I can only imagine...glad it's you, not me."

"Well..." and Cynder headed towards the ladder once again to take the M240 mounted near the hatch, "Keep going, let's hope this next place has what we're looking for, else we may not have enough time to get them out before the attack begins."

"Great..."

"Keep praying."

"I'm not religious."

"Have you heard the old saying that there are no atheists in foxholes?"

The door slammed open again, and Alex, who had just drifted off, glanced up to see Mabao arrive once more, flanked by two guards, both with loaded assault rifles, aimed right towards them, "So..." Mabao began, approaching his captives, hands crossed behind his back, "It would seem that your friends decided to show up," and he grimaced as he placed one leg up over a table, leaning forward into Alex's face, "Wonder what they would think, when they arrive only to find their messianic leaders on the ground in a puddle of their own blood."

Alex chuckled, "I warned you...but you didn't listen," and he looked up.

"Oh, so you can speak after all? Well god damn, and here I was thinking that you had gone mute on us, boy...thought maybe your boyfriend over there, during one of those long cold nights in the cell, ripped your tongue out after you touched him the wrong way."

Alex smirked, "Funny...same could be said about you and the Tartarus Unit, I bet you have some fun threesomes, eh? You the bottom? Or you in the sandwich..." but he was cut off by another painful punch across the face by the president.

"Taunt my all you want, boy-o, nobody's gonna bat an eye when you're in the grave. Give the Devil my regards."

"I'll see you in Hell..." and the bloodied, battered Commander grinned again as the world quaked around them, sending the room's occupants to the ground.

"What the hell was that?" one of the guards exclaimed, picking himself up.

Mabao, grimacing looked around the room, when he suddenly touched his ear, receiving a call through a hidden earpiece. Finally, he straightened himself, pointing a damning finger at the Commander, "I won't be able to stay here to watch you bite the dust, but as unfortunate as it is...the people need me alive," and he grinned, turning to face one of his guards, "Finish things up here for me, would you? I have a plane to catch."

Once Mabao had left the room and his guards approached them, preparing to fire, Alex, gathering up the last reserves of his strength, used his telekinesis to send them to the ground, also using it to lift their weapons high into the air and bring them smashing down onto the guards, one of them was knocked unconscious by a direct blow to the face and nose, the other could barely scream as his weapon fell towards him, barrel pointing down, stabbing through his eye. The world quaked again as dust and small debris began to rain down from the ceiling, and Alex turned to face Spyro. "Here's hoping they find us before we're buried alive. If anyone else comes in here...play dead...we're bloody enough, they're bound to think that the torture got us, understand? With everything falling apart around us, these guys' deaths will be justified."

He only slowly nodded in response.

"Cyn," Elliot began, "We're hearing reports that Mabao is pulling outta here, you better find the commanders ASAP, somethin' ain't right..."

"How did he find out?" 

"Beyond me, but find them, and soon! Elliot out!"

As the column rolled into the parking lot of the next command post in the chain, it was only mere seconds before the crews had dismounted. With three of the tanks holding position and defending the column, Cynder led the charge into the building, quickly engaging the _Maxian _troops that they encountered. Most of the building's occupants were scientists and military civilians, they were taken captive while Cynder made her way to the war room. Upon reaching it, they found the doors to be locked, but with the combined might of the crews who were storming the building, they managed to bust through the bolt, flooding the room in seconds. The _Maxia _in here moved to engage, but not before being relentlessly gunned down, and Cynder charged into the highest ranking officer there, a colonel, pinning him to the ground and holding her tail blade against his throat. "Where are Commander Vaughn and Commander Spyro being kept!?" she hissed.

"You don't scare me you stupid creature!"

Cynder, bearing her fangs in anger, responded by stabbing him in the side, with her blade, then pressing it tightly up against the man's throat again, drawing blood, "Tell me! _NOW!_"

"Okay! Okay!" he responded, "They are underground...! That's what I've heard!"

"How do I _get _down there!"

"There's an access...down the..." but he was silenced as a series of bullets ripped through the window and through his chest.

"They got a gunship!" one of Cynder's soldiers roared, "Hit the deck!"

The gunship, as black as night, lowered until it was level with the room, panning across the window, firing its dual, wing-mounted M134 miniguns into the side of the building.

"Son of a...!" Cynder roared, tapping her earpiece, calling her tank, "Can someone take down that damn gunship, over?"

"Negative, they're outta range," her gunner replied.

"Then get _into _range!"

"That's a negative, we have a large concentration of enemy infantry approaching our position from multiple directions, we're the only thing standing between you and them, out."

"We need to pull back to the street!" Cynder roared.

"Are you nuts?" one of her men called back, "The moment we get outta there we're dead! Not with this thing flyin' around!"

"Then keep moving, but we're still on a deadline!"

"We didn't even find out where the underground access was?"

"We'll find it..." is all she responded.

Upon reaching the street once again, Cynder held them back in the door until the gunship passed by to avoid fire from the column, then, once she deemed it was safe enough, they made a break for the waiting column, laying into the _Maxia _charging at them from all sides. Returning back to her tank, Cynder reclaimed her position at the the M240 and ordered for the tank to move out onto the street until the gunship was in range. The command tank moved forward, rolling in the direction of the charging _Maxia_, who were now pulling back, no doubt awaiting reinforcements. Just as they were out of range, the gunship reappeared in the skies from the other side of the command post, immediately engaging the column and effortlessly dodging the tanks' fire. "Get down here!" her commander snapped, pulling the dragon's tail and yanking her down into the interior, just as bullets struck through the hatch, causing some brief ricochet in the interior, injuring, but not seriously, their main gunner. Once the flurry ceased, he reached up and pulled the hatch closed.

Cynder stormed towards the tank commander, "NEVER do that again!" she growled, snorting puffs of smoke from her nostrils.

"Well if I wouldn't have, you'd be eating a face full of lead right now, so you owe me one."

"Will someone _please _ground that stupid plane?"

"Working on it," their gunner replied, and the she-dragon noticed that he was bleeding from side, just beneath the shoulder.

"Wait...did you get shot?"

He spat, "Ricochet grazed me, other than that, I'm fine..." and he continued rotating the turret, trying to get a lock onto the gunship, currently distracted with another tank in their unit. "Goodbye you son of a bitch!" he spat.

The shot struck it's target, and a ball of flame and smoke erupted from one of the machine's wings as it struggled to stay in flight. Another three rounds from different tanks finally brought the machine crashing into the building they had just emerged from. As the building began to collapse to the street, the ground quaked beneath them, and the asphalt buckled and broke as the street collapsed down into the tunnels themselves...including half of their column. Stranded in the trench, unable to move, the command tank and two others emptied their shaken by otherwise unscathed passengers.

"Well..." Cynder's gunner began, "You found an access."

"Spread out," she replied, "Cut through every last son of a bitch down here until we find Alex and Spyro..." and she tapped her earpiece, repeatedly, "Keep me informed. Turning to face the nearest branching path, Cynder, with a sigh, closed her eyes and tried to spread her mind out throughout the tunnels like Alex had showed her. However, because she was still inexperienced with this tactic, she found it less than useful, and with a growl, chose to telepathically call out to any and all who could hear, _Don't worry guys...we're on our way._

While Cynder moved through the surprisingly empty facility, she wondered where everyone had gone to, searching desperately everywhere she could for Alex and Spyro. Unfortunately, these tunnels went on for miles, and without a soul in sight to interrogate, she found herself running aimlessly, lost, through the corridors with no idea where she, or anyone else was...it was then that she noticed why the facility was so empty...lining the walls of the halls that she figured were at the farthest reaches of the compound, were explosives, hundreds of them, all wired through pressure censors, and still being set up. Taking down any of the crews she spied, she continued on, trying to figure out what the _Maxia _were planning.

"I found them..." a call came on her line, and she, instantly alert, was led by the caller through halls that he had a traversed himself, until eventually she found the rest of her squad standing around a very bloody and bruised Alex and Spyro, having been freed from their binds, but still too weak to stand, let alone move.

"Well," she began, "I got bad news...the _Maxia _have lined explosives around a good chunk of these tunnels...any idea why?"

"No clue...but I doubt it's good..." her tank commander replied.

"Cynder, tell me that you have found the commanders and are on your merry way out of town."

"Well...we've achieved one of those things...we found the commanders...looks like Mabao was torturing them for information."

"Did they break?"

"Not a clue, they're hardly conscious..."

"You better be on your way out of town, we're attacking in five minutes, with or without you."

"Can you guys move?"

"Good enough, I suppose," Alex responded, drinking from Cynder's gunner's canteen, handing it back to him, "Hope we don't have too far to go..."

"Yeah, well half of our column got dropped down here..."

"Wait a minute..." Cynder replied, stiffening, "I know what the _Maxia _are doing..."

"What?"

"They're setting up a line of obstacles to keep our tanks from passing into town...the bombs were set up to pressure detonators...I wouldn't doubt if they've rigged the tunnels to collapse when our forces go over them to keep us out of the city...or at least halt our progress."

"Then we need to get the hell out of here before we're buried alive."

Cynder nudged Spyro onto her back, "Let's hurry back...anybody know how to get back where we came from?"

"There's an access near here..." Alex managed, "I've seen Mabao use it."

"Where?"

"At the end of the hall...there is an elevator...should head back to the surface."

"You sure?"

"Positive..."

"Then let's go..."

Back on the surface, they regrouped with the rest of their tank column, working on trying to fish the tanks out of the trench, to no avail. "Leave 'em!" Cynder snapped, clambering onto the nearest one, helping Spyro and Alex into it, "We need to get out of here, Elliot's gonna start the attack any second now..." then she tapped her earpiece, "Elliot, be careful when you roll into town, the _Maxia _have rigged up the tunnels to collapse in on themselves, I'd assume to try and keep you out of the city...hope you got bridges with you, you're bound to lose a few vehicles in the process."

"Thanks for the warning," he replied, then, "You on your way?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, see you on the other side."

Once everyone was loaded onto the vehicle, the tank's commander called to them, "Hold onto your cocks, gentlemen, gonna be a little bumpy..."

In the distance, dozens of shells arched in the air, crashing down around the city's perimeter as Elliot's forces began their assault. Accompanied by the music of the _nebelwerfers_, dodging the explosions around them as they headed back to the edge of town, Cynder held her breath, praying for a safe escape. Eventually, they reached the road they had used to get here, and Cynder once more repeated her warning about the weakened supports beneath them, unsure whether or not the _Maxia _had managed to rig this section up to blow as well. When they passed through the decimated checkpoint unscathed, a line of friendly tanks speeding past them and storming the city, Cynder released her held breath. Upon reaching the Terminator staging yard outside the city, the crews of her column dismounted to catch their breaths, with Spyro and Alex leaving to clean themselves up.

Exiting the showers, wrapping a clean towel around his waist, Alex was alarmed to find Cynder waiting just outside for him. She noticed him, smiling and approaching, "Are you okay?"

He nodded, "Stiff, tired, and hungry...but otherwise...yeah...Mabao didn't do lasting damage, and what he _did _do will heal, with time."

She looked towards one of his feet, swollen and bruised, "Oh my God...what happened!?"

"Easy...easy," Alex breathed, heading back into the washroom, sitting down on the bench to massage his injured foot, "Bastard crushed it...didn't start hurting till we got here...guess the adrenaline wore off...ha..."

"When did it happen?" and she gently caressed it, with him hissing in the process.

"Few days ago," Alex managed, "Thankfully, he had a few sympathetic docs that kept us dosed up on drugs to ease the pain between sessions, and they half-assed cared for our worst injuries. Add to that, and there were far worse things we were dealing with then a smashed foot. When we get back to New Alexandria, I'll have Fox check it out, get it fixed up..."

As he stood back up, his towel fell away. Instantly, Cynder looked away, blushing terribly, and an embarrassed Alex was quick to cover himself once again. "I'll...uh...I'm gonna go check up on Spyro..." she replied, abruptly leaving the room.

She found the dragon eating heartily at the mess hall, a little battered, but looking none the worse for wear, clearly, he had dealt with a lot less than Alex had. "You okay?" she asked.

He nodded, "Yeah...gimme a couple of days of sleep, I'll be back to my old self..." then, "Is Alex doing okay?"

She nodded in response, sitting at the table, "Yeah...he's just...looks like the _Maxia _let you off easy."

"Yeah...compared to Alex, pretty much...probably doesn't help that my scales are a little harder than his skin...course, wasn't gonna let Mabao know that dragon scales make good armor..."

"Well..." and she blushed, "I'm glad you are okay...I missed you."

He smiled at her, "I missed you, too..." then, "I'm sorry...for letting you down. The mission was going so well...I don't know how he got the better of us."

She kissed him, much to his surprise, "Don't worry about it, okay?" she nuzzled him affectionately, "You're here now, you're safe, and you're okay...that's all I could ever ask for."

"I love you, and thank you."

She smiled, "I love you, too..."

They returned to the still-partially-flooded New Alexandria later that day, with Alex immediately heading to Fox for medical attention. Spyro and Cynder returned to the underground compound alone, finding that the rest of Alpha Company wasn't there, and the she-dragon remembered that they were most likely still down in DC. Spyro was soon in bed, and Cynder, after watching the news for a bit to see various media agencies using the attack on Washington to further slander the Terminator Militia's reputation, turned of the television set and decided to climb in bed beside the purple dragon. He was awake, much to her surprise, "What are you doing still up?"

He shrugged, "Every time I sleep...I keep seeing Mabao's face..." and he frowned, "To realize that I'll probably have to live with this experience for the rest of my life..." and he faced her, "Do you think we made the right decision coming here?"

She nodded, "I do...we're in good company, even if the challenges and demands are a little rougher. Besides," and she grinned mischievously, "Do you _really _want to go back to the Realms and our boring old life? You'd only be proving Sparx right...and you _know _how he reacted when he heard you were going after me."

"Yeah," and Spyro frowned, "He chewed me out for going after you...wanted me to leave you for the _Maxia _and refused to come along with...imagine what he'd think to find you and me are a couple."

"Yet you didn't...and I still thank you, and he'd flip I'm sure," she chuckled, nuzzling him.

"Well, I love you, Cyn...it was the least I could do..."

She kissed him again, tangling her tail in his, and surprised him with an open-mouthed kiss, slipping him her thin, smooth tongue, tangling with his own, "I love you, too..."

With a smile, they curled up together, drifting off, and feeling Cynder's warm presence beside him, Spyro was relieved to find that the nightmares did not torment him again.


	13. Chapter XII: The Hunter and the Prey

_**Chapter XII**_**:**

**-''The Hunter and the Prey''-**

**-Ellsworth, Illinois-**

**-**_**27 September 2009**_**-**

**-**_**1218 Hours**_**-**

Alpha Company sat around their lunch table, discussing the past week. The Gauntlet, a revolutionary battle simulation designed and developed by the militia under Elliot's, Bleu's, and Fox's watches, had recently been completed, and Alpha Company had all been its first subjects. It was a timed simulation, where its participants were given an extensive physical, psychological, and mental examination, and all the information gathered during the testing helped to create a unique experience which the subject was going to complete. No two 'Gauntlet' simulations were alike, as it was completely customized to better suit the subject's physical and intellectual attributes. It was not without difficulty, however, the Gauntlet consisted of an immense, miles-wide and long white room, with walls that could raise to separate each participant so that they would not interact with one another, and thus facilitate the full immersion of the experience. In effect, it was a giant, virtual reality video game stage, that the subject unintentionally created themselves, and although actual death was not possible during the test, it was strongly discouraged, as premature death would end the simulation early and would show up negatively on the results, possibly even warranting another run through boot camp, if it was bad enough. Even with the discouragement, to the participants, the Gauntlet was so real that they would try to avoid death anyway, much like a soldier on a real battlefield would try to avoid endangering themselves. After being left in observation for twenty four hours (including an overnight stay) where the subject's mental and physical activity was examined, they were given a headset that emitted pulses that could temporarily overwrite short-term memory with false memories, thus supporting the immersion.

Upon beginning the test, the pulses of the headset not only made the device itself seem nonexistent, but also intercepted and overwrote the brain's perception of reality, thus making a sterile, white, underground labyrinth of blank, featureless walls look like a wartorn city with incredible realism and vividity, the chamber could even simulate weather and day/night patterns. 'Winning' the test was as simple as completing the subject's given objectives, delivered to them during an in-simulation briefing, however, the Gauntlet was programmed so that there was a completely random, but high, chance of the mission going awry, up to and including death of family and friends (now effectively the 'NPCs' of the 'game', as the test was taken by the subject by themselves). It also favored exploiting one's deepest fears, to see how much one could take. Although winning was rather easy (especially since the objectives _did _cater to the participant's best attributes, even if also pushing their weakest ones to their limits), there was a random time limit installed in the system...unknown to the subject of course. If the subject passed the Gauntlet beneath the time limit, any company other than Alpha was promoted to Alpha Company, while Alpha Company members who could complete the Gauntlet beneath the time limit were promoted to the High Command.

Amusingly enough, even the High Command itself found surprising difficulty in winning the Gauntlet beneath their given time limits, several of Alpha Company and even High Command failed it, and the last member, Piermont, had just completed it the day before, almost two week past his given time limit.

As they chatted, Alex suddenly fell silent, looking up towards the entrance to the cafeteria. Sarah Rogers, a new girl who had just arrived this year, entered the room, anxiously looking around for a place to sit. Alex considered inviting her over, but ultimately decided against it, she was attractive, thin, about his height, with long, dark brown hair, glasses, and a nearly flawless complexion, despite wearing no makeup, but most likely out of his league. He tried to return to the conversation unnoticed, but one glance at the rest of the High Command told him that they knew very well what he was thinking. "Lil' Ali's got himself a crush, aww," a human-form Piermont, sitting across from him remarked, making kissing sounds.

Alex responded by painfully kicking him beneath the table, "Fuck you," the Commander growled.

"Why are you so defensive?" Spyro asked, "For a human, she's pretty attractive, nobody's gonna say anything."

"She's outta my league anyway," and he returned his attention to his meal.

"You sure about that?" the purple dragon asked.

"Positive."

"Have you tried talking to her?" Cynder suggested, "She's the new girl, I'm sure she's probably looking for a friend."

He shrugged, "Nah...best keep her out of my way, you know what happens to people who end up getting in my way."

"You threatening her now? Christ, you're an ass," Piermont remarked, but Alex only glared at him.

"I always end up endangering them one way or the other, whether intentional or not...it's best to just leave her be."

"Don't know what you're missin'," Cynder remarked, "Hell, for all you know, she has the hots for you and is just trying to keep it under tabs."

"Yeah...I doubt it."

"Really? Cause I'd say differently."

"Why?"

"Oh! Come on, now, Alex! Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"Noticed what?"

Both Spyro and Cynder groaned, while Piermont was chuckling to himself, saying nothing.

"What!? Tell me!"

"Dude..." Spyro began, "Every time we look at her, she's staring at you...got those stars in her eyes."

"Eh?" and the High Command, Alex included, all turned to face her. She, having sat at a round table by herself across the cafeteria, was staring at them, but upon realizing that they were looking at her, she lowered her eyes and returned her attention to her food.

"She's probably curious who all these animals are," Alex responded with a sigh.

"You're so stubborn..." Piermont growled, "You're _always _bitching about not having a girlfriend, but whenever one gets the hots for you, you discount it. First Zinnia," and Alex glared at him, while Spyro and Cynder queried who she was, but the dragon ignored them, "Then Cyn, and now _this _chick! Why won't you _listen _to me, or anyone else for that matter. I'm not shitting you, man, I know what I'm talking about, ask anyone here!"

"What!? I'm not crushing on him!" Cynder scowled.

"Bullshit you ain't, your mind is an open book."

Alex and Spyro both turned to face the she-dragon, who only shook her head, "He's lying, being Piermont, as always."

"Regardless," Piermont continued, "Anytime someone has the hots for you, you are oblivious to it. You _do _realize that most girls...or the good ones anyway...are not gonna bluntly tell you they like you. Girls like to speak in little hints, actions, body signals, things like that...one of the many problems with girls. Thankfully, Cherub was pretty blunt about it...else I wouldn't have figured it out for quite awhile either...but I digress. TLDR, new girl is crushing on you."

"Are you _sure _it's not just because I'm running around with a bunch of talking, wild animals with magic powers? That's kinda rare, you know."

There was a collective groan that emerged from the others of Alpha Company, loud enough to silence the cafeteria and attract the attention of the rest of the students. Alex only rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on as he reached into his pocket, popping two ibuprofen tablets to stave off the imminent migraine.

"Fine, continue being an idiot," Piermont growled.

The following period after lunch, Biology, was one that most of Alpha Company dreaded to attend. Their teacher was notoriously arrogant, so much so that in his eyes, it was his way or the highway. He would commonly dive into religious or political subjects, even those with absolutely no relation to the class at hand, and make his beliefs on them well known, challenging and belittling anyone who disagreed with him. Because of this, they did not take him seriously, and would often let him do his own thing, only doing the bare minimum to get by. When several of his questions were falsehoods about the status of certain animals in the wild, he would often use Alpha Company as an example, while also using them as a way to prove to his class how the world was contributing to the problem of species becoming endangering and extinct. Much of the animalian members of Alpha Company were quick on the defensive when he tried to use them as an example in one of his rants.

The target of today happened to be cheetahs, and how they were being poached to extinction, and how poachers were the main cause of the species' endangerment. Cheet, being a cheetah himself, knew for a fact that although poachers did contribute to part of the problem, there was also the issue of predators to their young, and difficulties in cheetahs to reproduce in the first place. The class was often amused whenever their instructor would sink his teeth into one of the animals of Alpha Company, hoping that they would support his arguments, with the subject usually turning the tides of the conversation and mentioning how humanity wasn't the primary cause of species endangerment. Needless to say, he did no take this news kindly.

"There's no need to defend us," the teacher began, "Everybody knows we're at fault for cheetahs being endangered."

"Not necessarily," Cheet responded matter-of-factly, "Yeah, poachers and lumberjacks don't help, but neither does the fact that my species has a hard time protecting its young from predators...that being the young we _can _make, since cheetahs have a hard time getting pregnant anyway."

"I can tell you were raised in the company of humans."

"What do you mean?" the cheetah began, suddenly weary.

"Well, clearly the bias imposed on you by your captor has indoctrinated you into thinking that we're innocent, when science shows that we are _not _innocent."

"I didn't say you were," Cheet replied grimly, "I only said that humans are the only problem. There are natural problems, too."

"See class?" he began, "Evidence how containing these creatures is cold, cruel, and dangerous."

"Now wait just a second..."

"No, it's okay," he interrupted, "We all understand your suffering."

"For your information, I happen to like it here!"

His jaw dropped, as if Cheet's statement had been blasphemous, "Impossible, you can't, not without your own kind."

"Sorry to bust your bubble, buddy, but I like being here, and Alex is a good person."

"Really now?"

"Yes!"

"Do all of you think that Mr. Vaughn is a good person?"

Consecutive nods or murmurs of agreement from the rest of Alpha Company.

The teacher once more turned to face his class, "As you can see, this is what happens when you take these poor animals prisoner. You end up indoctrinating them and keeping the truth from them, so that they will defend you with their lives. This is the same tactic that the military is known for, and frankly, I can expect no less from someone who enjoys murdering others for their own satisfaction."

"Except that if we were attacked, I'd be the one to save your friggin' life?" Alex exclaimed.

"I don't need your help, or anyone else's help. All soldiers do is incite violence, without them, we'd do a lot better as a society. Military folk are a detriment to society as a whole, that is why I like President Mabao, he's trying to rid us of our reliance on these little militias, and it would make our lives a lot easier if he succeeded."

"Really..." and Alex collapsed back in his seat. The rest of the class broke out in wild laughter at this statement, knowing very well that Mabao was a joke, and a monster. Alex was overjoyed to realize that most of his classmates were on his side, and he once more was alarmed at the realization that for once, Alpha Company was _not _the despised 'us and them' group that they had been treated like since elementary school.

Spyro smirked, "You know, you're going to regret those words."

"I still am trying to figure out how it can even be remotely possible that you're alive...dragons don't exist. Who created you?"

"Um...my mom and dad?"

"Who were your parents? What university did they go to? What lab were you created in? Is there a way I can talk to them?"

Spyro only shook his head with a sigh.

"I can only think that you might be a mutated komodo dragon, or a monitor lizard? That poison that Mr. Vaughn is giving you all could possibly cause that, depending on your cellular structure and the poison's chemical makeup."

"I was born a dragon, I'm going to die a dragon," Spyro growled, "I'm not a mutated lizard, I'm a _dragon_, so is Cynder, so is Piermont, so is Cherub."

"You and the girl aren't the only dragons?"

Piermont groaned, "Buddy, if it was a lot bigger in here, you would see just how stupid you sound."

"I will not have you insult me, Pierre, go to the office."

Piermont grinned, "Hey, fuck you, old man."

The class fell silent, glaring at him, while the teacher himself only stared the dragon down, "Office, now!"

"All right, all right," he sighed, "Jesus Christ, don't need to throw a little bitchy fit like every other retarded liberal faggot in the world."

This sent him over the edge, and their instructor charged at the dragon, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out into the hall, taking him to the office. They class remained silent, waiting to see the outcome, and they could hear Piermont cackle in wild laughter.

"Well...my day just got interesting," Cheet began with a grin, "Shit...this is gonna be fun..."

Suddenly, they heard a rapid staccato of gunfire and screams. "What the hell?" Alex exclaimed, jumping out of his seat and running out the door, the rest of the class in tow. As they ran down the hall, heading to the front entrance, Alex paused in his tracks as he saw who was standing before them, holding both Piermont and the teacher at gunpoint.

"Fucking..." Cheet began.

"Well, look who showed up?" Xerxes replied with a high pitched, guttural laugh, turning to face Alex, "Well giddy god damn, it looks like Alpha goes here after all!"

"Don't just stand there!" Observer, unarmed, growled, and Xerxes ran towards them, Alex merely sidestepped out of the way as the man lost his footing and fell to the ground, and the Commander picked up the fat man's dropped weapon, taking aim at Xerxes, circling around them so he could easily shift its sights between both members of the Tartarus Unit.

"Surprised that ol' Mabao cleared you to storm a school," Alex chuckled, "Figured it'd be too messy for him to deal with. Once word gets around that his precious Tartarus Unit threatened to shoot up a school...well, bad things will happen I'm sure."

"Ha! Jokes on you dumbass!" Xerxes snickered.

"Wouldn't call the guy holding a gun to your greasy little pizza face a dumbass, if I were you."

"You can't hurt me! We're mutants!"

"Bullshit," and he fired a shot towards the man, hitting him n the leg. He curled into a ball, crying out in pain, and Alex shook his head, "Oh for the love of...get up and stop being such a bitchy little girl. Christ, I can't believe I ever considered either one of you a serious threat."

"Just wait until the president hears about this!" Observer growled, holding up his arms in surrender, "He'll finish you!"

"Yeah?" and Alex fired a shot into both of the taller, skinnier man's leg, sending him to the ground. Alex quickly disassembled the weapon, tossing the pieces behind him, "Guess what faggot, I have a feeling that _we're _not gonna be the ones he's pissed off at," then, "Does Mabao even _know _you two morons are here?"

They exchanged glances.

"Wow...nice going, I am so damn glad I ain't either one of you..." and he turned to face their instructor, staring at him in shock and distrust, "You still think we're the bad guys here?"

As Alex rotated on his heels to head back to the classroom, he heard the distant whirring of a helicopter and he, stiffening, turned to face outside the school. Several gunships lowered in the parking lot, depositing troops that began to run towards the school doors, using the various cars in the parking lot for cover.

"Oh hell..." he remarked, then rapidly made a break for his locker, set beside a 'T' junction in the hall, diving behind the door as a flurry of machine gun fire filled the hall, striking and deflecting off of the door. Holding his breath, the Commander quickly fished out his AK47, rapidly assembling it, loading a fresh clip into the weapon and peering out of cover, firing towards the group in short bursts, scattering them.

"Can use a little help here!" Alex roared, firing towards the troops, now beginning to pull back. He grinned, "What's wrong? Didn't expect me to come armed? You must be a special kind of stupid!"

While the _Maxian _troops pulled back into the entrance lobby, Cheet, Simba, and Nala appeared from behind them, tackling the back of the group to the ground and swiftly killing them by snapping their jaws around their throats and shaking them like rag dolls. Spyro and Cynder flamed them from behind, with Alex firing towards them from the front. The entire group was trapped in the middle of the hall between the encircling Alpha Company, firing towards them to drive them back while trying to find cover. Eventually, upon running out of bullets, only managing to graze Cheet's flank, they surrendered, and Alex pondered executing them for a moment before deciding, instead, to fish out his cell phone from his pocket and dial Elliot.

Crash soon spilled out of the classroom.

"Kinda late to the party, don't you think?" Cheet growled, shaking his head.

"Well sorry!" he spat, "But I don't have a means to defend myself, unlike _you _trigger-happy sons of bitches, I didn't bring my gun or any body armor."

"These idiots aren't even using silver rounds!"

"Still."

Cheet only roared and hissed at him, Crash didn't even flinch, only lowered and shook his head, disappearing back inside the classroom. "Shit!" Sonic swore, and Alex turned to face him, standing beside Tails and Knuckles; the Tartarus Unit had gotten away in the fire. The Commander left the school, turning to face the skies, where he could make out a single gunship, as black as night, flying away.

"Well..." Piermont began, appearing beside him, "Should I take 'em down?"

Alex grinned, "Nah, let them go...Mabao's gonna be pissed when he finds out what they did."

"You sure?"

"Very much so."

Upon the end of the school day, Alpha Company accompanied Elliot back to New Alexandria, the general flying on his mount, a Martaanean Desert Dragon named Damien. Upon landing in the mountains outside of the flooded city, still knee-high deep in water at the shallowest points, Elliot spoke to them while they headed towards the access down into the compound beneath the city, "So...a mission's come up...you and Spyro ready to take it on again, Vaughn?"

"Depends on the kind of mission," the Commander replied.

"Stealth...hopefully not as much of a disaster as DC."

Alex sighed, "What do you want?"

Elliot grinned, "I want you two to meet the man behind the _Maxia_, Mabao isn't actively commanding his troops...there's someone else. There's a compound in the Rockies, called 'Area 8', their military commander is stated to reside there...need you to figure out who the sonuvabitch is."

"Can't we kill him?"

"No, capture him, I want him alive."

"Yeah, cause we're totally gonna extract a high-ranking prisoner from the _Maxia_'s own fortress, legit," Spyro responded.

"You boys are smart, you'll think of something."

"Need I remind you about _Operation: Shinobi_?" Alex spat, "How we know that he/she/it won't just anticipate our arrival like Mabao did, or won't be tipped off?"

"Because unlike with _Shinobi-Anaconda_, only me and now you guys know about the operation. There is no written or physical proof of its existence, figured I'd keep it that way to keep any moles the _Maxia _may have from finding out about it."

"Okay, okay," Alex interrupted, "So, let me get this straight...you want us to infiltrate a no-doubt heavily guarded compound, find the unknown face of the _Maxia_'s commanding body, grab him without alerting_ any_ attention, and extract them _out _of the base, and to some random as hell LZ fifty friggin' miles outside of the area so we can get him back here for interrogation?"

Elliot nodded, "Sums it up quite nicely."

"Yeah...cause it's gonna totally work."

"It will, you know how I know?"

"How?"

"Because you boys'll _make _it work!"

Both Alex and Spyro groaned in protest.

"Besides, Cyn's gonna be with you girls, she'll keep you safe. Hell, she's got more balls then the rest of this army combined! You saw her during _Anaconda_, she single-handedly pulled your asses outta the fire!"

"She's coming down with us?"

"Uh...that's a negative, but she _will _be your overwatch."

"Great...at least we have her."

"That's the spirit, Vaughn!"

Alex, Spyro, and Cynder's Hornet, piloted by Tails, emerged above the Rocky Mountains later that night. In addition to the aforementioned members of Alpha Company, it also held a dozen of Elliot's best men from Gamma, Delta, and Epsilon Companies to ensure that the operation pulled off smoothly. Alex and Spyro themselves were deposited in a clearing a mile and a half outside of the compound, and would have to, much like the failed mission in DC, make their way to the compound and find a way to infiltrate it. With DC in ruins, there was no doubt that the _Maxia _had massively upped their security across all of their bases, especially if someone as high ranking as Mabao's general was residing there.

"Wonder if Mabao's here..." Spyro asked as the Hornet rose into the skies, disappearing beyond the horizon into safer territory.

"Hard telling," Alex replied, silencing and reloading his newly cleaned rifle, "But _he's _not our target, this general of Mabao's is."

"Yeah...but do you think Elliot will have any complaints if we find Mabao there and take him down in the process?"

"I want him alive if he's there, Vaughn," the general answered over their communication line, and Alex and Spyro exchanged bemused glances.

As they feared, the _Maxia _had massively increased their security...large patrols were heavily concentrated in and around the area, and Alex realized that they had taken a huge risk landing at their drop off point...patrols from the compound were as far as two miles out from the base itself, surprisingly enough. "Dunno about you," Spyro began as they hid from a patrol of around ten to fifteen men walking past them, panning gun-mounted flashlights around the forested area, "But I think we got Mabao on alert."

"Wouldn't be surprised," the Commander replied, "Probably had doubts that we were killed in DC, doubts that were confirmed when the Tartarus Unit came home with their tails tucked between their legs."

"Shit, wonder if he reamed them for the attack."

"Wouldn't doubt it...hell, even _he _has standards, and blindly attacking a public school, in broad daylight, with no solid evidence of our presence is probably looked down upon. Especially considering that the Tartarus Unit are the face of the _Maxia_ to the media, and word gets around fairly quickly. Gotta remember that Mabao's trying to keep good face with the masses, and headlines that the representative face of the _Maxia _shot up a school just for the lulz will not be viewed kindly."

"Wish I was there..."

"You and me both, Brother."

Upon reaching the compound, they remained just the treeline, keeping an eye on the pattern of patrols and activity through the entrance and around the checkpoints and compound itself. There was too much going on for them to find a way in, and the walls looked to be too tall and smooth textured to scale. In addition to that, Spyro could not take the risk of flying over the wall, since the base was situated in a clearing overlooking a valley. Spotlights scanned the entire outer perimeter of the area, and Alex thought he could see some spotlights inside as well.

"Well shit..." he sighed, "This'll be fun."

"Over there," and Spyro nodded towards the right of the base. There was a little mountain pass that seemed to go around one of the peaks and come out somewhere inside the base, from their vantage point, it seemed to be lightly guarded, "What do you think?"

Alex thought about it for a few moments then, closing his eyes, he placed his palm to the ground, expanding his mind throughout the area. Spyro stared at him, wearing a puzzled expression before the Commander's cold, blue, killer's eyes shot open, and he grinned maliciously, "I think you're on to something, Spyro."

"Nothing there?"

"Not anything we can't handle..."

"How we gonna get over there?" he asked. It was on the other side of the long, winding dirt road that snaked through the mountain ascent and to the compound from the village at the mountain's base. "As soon as we step out onto the road, we're finished."

"If we get far enough down, we might be able to get across without anyone seeing."

"Yeah? Except traffic's pretty bad..."

"It isn't continuous..." then, "Follow me."

Alex led them down away from the base and down the mountain, once they were at the bottom between two hills, he waited for a troop transport convoy to roll past before sprinting across the street, Spyro on his heels. They dove into the bushes on the other side of the street just as a tank column rolled past them. For several minutes, they waited, but when it became clear that no one was onto them, Alex continued back up the mountain, heading towards the base. Upon reaching the clearing once again, they circled around, staying inside the treeline, until reaching the pass. It was much narrow than they had originally thought, and had many turns and twists to it, but it seemed that it was the only thing that the _Maxian _guards _had _overlooked. Within twenty minutes upon sprinting into the pass, they found themselves on a cliff overlooking the interior off the base, and Alex hit the ground, laying prone, with Spyro beside him. The base was tucked between two peaks, with walls only on the ends not covered by the face of the mountains, meaning that all they had to do was drop down the cliff and they were inside the perimeter.

"This is way too friggin' easy, man..." Spyro began, "I don't like this."

"Hell you talking about?" and Alex turned to face the compound, busy, even this late at night.

"Well, if I were Mabao, or his mysterious general, I sure as hell wouldn't overlook this pass."

"We'll be fine...hopefully," Alex remarked, then, "When in doubt, look for a cardboard box."

"What?"

The Commander grinned, "C'mon, Raiden, let's go, and if you find any massive, bipedal mechas or EXOs, do let me know."

"I don't...what?"

"Never mind!"

Once there was a break in activity, Alex dropped down into the base, quickly dashing for cover behind a stack of storage containers nearby. Spyro dropped down beside him, "Okay, we're in. So...now what?"

"Lemme think for a sec."

"Wonder where our general is hiding..."

"Hmm..." and Alex scanned the environment when his eyes fell upon a guard, looking around before slipping into the shadows of another, nearby group of storage containers, "Follow me."

He slipped out of cover, sprinting across the road and into the cluster of storage containers, he held up a hand to Spyro, placing his index finger against his mouth in a shushing gesture. Pressing his back against the container, he slipped out of cover, approaching the guard, standing in a corner where two containers converged, relieving himself. Alex charged into him, knocking him to the ground. They fought for several moments before Alex knocked the wind out of the man, the Commander standing to his full height and placing the heel of his combat boot against the guard's throat, placing the cold barrel of his AK47 against the man's forehead, "Where is Mabao's general?" he hissed.

"I...I don't know what you're talking ab..."

"BULLSHIT!" he spat, "I know he's here! Where is he?"

"Who? Who are you..." but his voice was hoarse, and he tried to lift the Commander's heel off his throat, gasping for breath, but to no avail.

"Mabao's general! The military commander of the _Maxia_! Where is he!"

"Necro? You mean...Necro?"

"Necro?"

"General...Necro! He's...at the command center!"

"Where's the command center?"

Silence as the man struggled to regain his breath.

"_TELL ME!_"

"It's...it's...at the end of the...road...big building...flag hanging in front...you can't miss it!"

Alex's furious expression turned into a mad, malicious grin, "Thank you for your cooperation," before he smashed the butt of his rifle against the man's head, knocking him unconscious. Turning to face Spyro, he said, "Let's move."

Dodging guards and patrols, they soon reached the command center: a large, three story building with two flags hanging on a pole out front, the American flag at the top, the _Maxian_ flag beneath: a black, square cloth with red trim, a gold-rimmed shield centered upon it, colored a deep, navy blue, and the black silhouette of a bull's face, with blood red eyes and nostrils centered within the shield on the blue field. Two men stood guard at the door into the command center, with a group of recruits going through PT at the command of their drill sergeant, barking orders through a megaphone.

"We need another plan..." Spyro breathed, they were hiding within the hedgerows surrounding the newly-paved, curved, asphalt driveway of the command center, "This place is too hot to take on directly."

Alex nodded towards another, two story building touching ends with the command center, its windows dark, "What about that one?"

"What about it?"

"Think we can get into the command center through there?"

"Hell I don't know...what's your plan?" then, squinting his eyes, "What even _is _it?"

"Let's see..." and they crept closer. Once they reached the door into the building, Alex quickly glanced around before digging out a lockpicking kit from his pocket. Several seconds later, he opened the door and the duo slipped inside, Alex quietly shutting and locking the door behind them. They found themselves in a dark, carpeted hall, the only sounds being the humming of the building's central heating, fighting the cold night outside. They moved silently through the building, peering in the open doorways to either side of the hall, discovering that they were in the officers' quarters.

"They don't even get private rooms?" Spyro remarked, noticing that the officers slept in bunks in shared rooms, much like the lesser grunts, "Good thing I'm not _Maxia_...I like Club Camelot much better."

"Quiet!" Alex spat. They navigated the dark halls, eventually reaching the end of the hall, marked by a door with a glowing red 'EXIT' sign above it. Alex winced as it squeaked open, and they both slipped into a large stairwell heading up. Gently closing the door behind them, they sprinted up the stairs, with Alex ordering, "Keep an eye out for any cameras, last thing we need to do is alert the whole fucking base that we're here."

When they reached the top of the stairwell, Alex opened the squeaky door, finding himself on the building's roof.

"Stay low," he remarked, quickly sprinting across the rooftop towards the command center. He suddenly heard the whirring of chopper blades and he swore, "Helicopter!"

A spotlight shined across the rooftops, and Alex forced both he and Spyro down beneath the ductwork, waiting, holding his breath, as the spotlight shined over them before continuing on. Once the helicopter was out of range, Alex crawled out of cover, ensuring the coast as clear before calling Spyro over to him. He walked over to the wall of the command center, scratching his head to figure out how to get onto the roof.

"Mount up," Spyro began, allowing Alex to climb onto his back before the dragon quickly flapped into the air, landing on the roof. Immediately, they dove for cover behind an air conditioning unit. Peering out of cover, Alex saw two guards standing on the edge of the roof, talking to one another, "Great...now what?"

Alex walked around the ductwork until he found a vent, and he grinned, "I have an idea..."

"Mind sharing?"

"Help me here..." and the Commander grabbed one side of the vent cover, with Spyro grabbing the other, with a mighty pull from both, they managed to rip through the rusted bolts on the cover, pulling it off. Gently laying it aside, Alex stepped out of the way, keeping an eye out as Spyro scurried into the ducts. Once his companion was inside, Alex himself climbed into it, sliding the vent cover across the roof and to the hole.

He heard the guards stop talking, followed by one of them asking, "You heard something?" and Alex waved Spyro away, deeper into the duct.

"Go! Go!" he spat, leaning just inside the vent, to the left of the cover, keeping his weapon ready. When the guards appeared around the corner, shining their flashlights on it, he readied himself.

"What the hell?" one of the guards remarked, and Alex kicked down the vent cover, rolling out of the duct and swiftly gunning down the two guards before they had a chance to react.

He dragged the bodies towards the duct, calling into the darkness, "Watch out, Spyro, got some visitors..." and he pulled the two corpses into the duct, just out of sight of the cover. The bodies hidden, he climbed back into the duct himself, pulling the cover back up until it was leaning against the hole. Although a guard could probably tell it was broken through, he doubted any of the patrolling helicopters would...he only hoped they didn't see the spilled blood from the slain guards, thankfully, there was very little. Crawling over the corpses, Alex rejoined Spyro at the end of the duct, ,where it curved down vertically into the building, leveling off five or six feet down, "Well?" Alex began, "Hell you waiting for, mate?"

With a sigh, Spyro slipped down the hole, Alex landing beside him. There was a hardy _thunk_, causing him to wince, and they both remained silent for several minutes, waiting for any sign that someone had heard them. When it seemed that they were clear, they crawled throughout the maze of ducts, looking through any vent covers down to the floor beneath them to get a rough idea of where they were inside the building. Suddenly, Alex's headset buzzed in his ear, and he tapped his earpiece, "Vaughn here."

"Archangel, this is Wraith...where you guys at?" Cynder asked, "You okay, over?"

"For now, yeah, thanks for asking."

"Where are you, over?"

"In the compound, currently crawling through the vents of the command center."

"Let me know when you find something, or if you need help."

"Roger."

"Tell Spyro I love him..."

Alex grinned, "I will."

"And Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful..."

"Don't worry, we will."

"Wraith, out."

They continued navigating the ducts until finding themselves above the war room, and for a brief moment, Alex felt nauseated. Glancing through the rusted vent cover, he could see the floor of the war room, approximately thirty feet down. "Well..." Spyro began, "Hell of a fall."

Suddenly, a loud, impatient man's voice broke the silence of the room, "So, the President has sent you two idiots here to me? He must be rather pissed off..."

They exchanged anxious glances before looking through the vent cover again, searching for the sound of the voice. Alex remained in place as Spyro moved up the duct, searching for another vantage point, several moments later, he called to the Commander via telepathy, _Over here_.

Alex headed to where Spyro stood, around the corner, looking through a vent cover mounted on the side of the duct. They found themselves overlooking a loft, and a tall, thin man, clad in an officer's uniform, appearing to be about late twenties or early thirties, stood at the front of the balcony, arms crossed behind his back.

"You think that's our guy?" Spyro asked the Commander.

"Roger."

Standing before the balcony, on ground level, was the Tartarus Unit, appearing awkward and uncomfortable, surrounded by oddly muscular and tall soldiers clad entirely in black. "So...looks like the _Maxia_'s getting into steroids?" Alex remarked. Eight guards surrounded the Tartarus Unit, all at least seven feet tall, and extremely, impossibly muscular, their black suits form-fitting and skin-tight.

"I don't like this at all..." Spyro replied.

"Uh...sir, 'Necro', sir..." Xerxes began, "We didn't mean anything by it..."

"The President tells me that you went on a tangent and attacked a school, against explicit orders...is this true?"

"Sir..." Observer began, voice small.

"Is it?"

"Um...yes, sir..." Xerxes responded nervously.

"You gentlemen do realize that you represent the face of this army...the face of the _Maxia _Regime. In the eyes of the United States of America, you two represent the finest our force has to offer...but all I see are two cowardly manchildren, looking as if they're about to piss themselves out of fear. You do know why we are careful with our operations, no?"

"Sir?"

'Necro' began to walk around the balcony, "Our mission, the mission of the _Maxia_ Regime, is to eliminate the threat posed upon us by the controlling militaries that govern our government, primarily the Terminator Militia. At the same time, we are to keep good face with the people of this noble country at all costs...and stupid, foolish incidents like this only serve to attract negative attention to President Mabao, myself, and the _Maxia_. Under normal circumstances, you would face court-martial. The President, however, insists that you are reeducated on your mission instead...so, for the next eight weeks, you will remain here, away from all outside contact, and you will be put through basic again. I will PT you two to death, and you will wish that you never betrayed our orders, do you understand me?"

"Sir...yes, sir..." Observer began, sounding sad.

"Good..." and 'Necro' looked the room, pausing when he seemed to be facing Alex and Spyro. He was of average high, muscular, clean-shaven, pale, with dark, hazel eyes, short brown hair poking from his cap. Although there was a malicious light in his eyes, there was also a sort of high intelligence. "I do believe that is a fitting punishment for you two..." then he tagged on, smiling to reveal small, perfect teeth, "Don't you agree, Commander Vaughn and Commander Spyro?"

Alex stiffened his heart sinking, and he exchanged glances with a horrified Spyro.

"President Mabao warned me you two might end up showing up..." and he nodded towards the hulkish guards surrounding the Tartarus Unit, "Fire at will."

Instantly, there was a hail of gunfire that ripped through the ducts, approaching them.

"Jesus!" Alex spat, shoving Spyro forward, "Move it!"

The two quickly crawled through the ducts, a wall of bullets hot on their heels. As they passed through the wall and into another hall, they heard 'Necro' call out, "Find them and kill them!"

"We need to get out of here!" Spyro exclaimed, nearing panic.

Alex tapped his earpiece, "Cynder! We got a problem! He knows we're here!"

"What? How?"

"I don't fucking know! We need you pronto!"

"I'm on my way..."

They crawled through the vents, hearing the _Maxian _troops running around beneath them, shooting up the ducts around them. "We're gonna die here, aren't we?" Spyro exclaimed.

"Not if I can help it!" Alex spat, "Keep yourself under control or we _will _die!"

Pausing at one of the vent covers facing the hall floor, Alex kicked it repeatedly until it finally broke free of the bolts, clattering to the burgundy tile floor beneath. "_THAT _got their attention!" Spyro remarked, and Alex slapped him, "Shut up and get down there!"

Spyro dropped down into the hall, Alex dropping down beside them, and readying his weapon the Commander led them to the end of the hall. Two of the big soldiers approached them, and Alex laid into them, dropping nearly an entire clip into the men, who didn't even seem phased.

"The hell?" Alex remarked, loading in a fresh clip and finally sending them to the ground. As he sprinted down the corridor, he was horrified as the guards merely picked themselves up, and he saw the telltale blue sparks dancing across their bodies, healing their wounds. "Oh no..."

As if knowing their sudden realization, 'Necro' telepathically contacted them, _I must say, Commander Vaughn, you're little magic potion is doing _wonders_._

"What the hell!?" Spyro exclaimed, "How did he _do _that!?"

Running past the guards, trying to find an exit, Alex tapped his earpiece, "Cyn, it's worse than we thought..."

"What do you mean?" she replied over the line, sounding concerned.

"Looks like Mabao's got his hands on the mutation serum, these guys are all mutated!"

"_What!?_"

_Cynder? _'Necro' thought to him, _So, you weren't just left here alone like you were in DC? Impressive, I didn't think the old dog Elliot would learn not to make such rookie mistakes. I guess you really _can _teach old dogs new tricks..._

"Dammit, Cynder! Get as close to this fucking place as you can!"

"All right, we have a new potential LZ, it's a few miles east."

"Yeah? We're on our way, but be ready, cause you're soon gonna have half the goddamn place hot on your ass."

"We will be."

Finally, they found the double doors they had seen earlier, and kicking them open, Alex knocked the two guards outside to the ground before they could react, sprinting across the pavement. Bullets whizzed past all around them, and a klaxon sounded throughout the entire compound.

"Bloody hell!" Alex spat, "Keep moving! Don't stop!"

"Alex!" Spyro began, "We can't kill them!"

"If it bleeds we can kill it," Alex replied grimly, "You know how it goes with the elite mooks in video games and the old films, we just need more dakka."

As they reached the entrance to the compound, they were driven into cover by the encircling mutant _Maxia_, "CYNDER!" Alex spat, "Goddammit! We can't get to the LZ! You think you can come here?"

"I'll see what I can do..." she responded, "Hold on, we're on our way."

"Better have some serious firepower ready, these guys are gonna take a _lot _to bring down!"

The duo took up defensive positions, using whatever cover they could from the encompassing fire. Just as the _Maxia _were upon them, their Hornet appeared over the walls, lowering to a hover behind the two commanders as the ramp lowered, allowing the vehicle's occupants to lay into the approaching mutants.

"_Allons-y_!" Alex spat as he and Spyro clambered into the Hornet, closing the ramp behind them. As the vehicle raised into the air, Tails rotated the Hornet around in mid-hover, laying into the encircling mutants with the aircraft's dual miniguns. Once the guns were out of range, Tails rotated the machine around once more and raced forward, leaving the base in his shadow. As the Hornet vanished into slipspace, Alex collapsed into his seat, sitting between Spyro and Cynder, out of breath, heart racing.

"Holy shit..." Cynder said, shaking her head.

"Those bastards can take a lotta heat can't they?" Tails queried.

"Yeah..." Alex began, "Can't wait to tell Elliot about our new problem..."

"What? 'Necro'?" Spyro asked.

"No..." the Commander replied, shaking his head, "The _Maxia _have mutants."

The following morning, Alex, Spyro, and Cynder reported to the war room beneath New Alexandria, where Elliot had some important information for them. "Good to see you," the general replied.

"You figure out anything on our mysterious leader?" Alex asked.

Elliot solemnly nodded, "Yes and no..."

"What do you mean?"

"Well...funny story about 'Necro'. He's a former Navy SEAL, has an exemplary, but questionable record."

"What's his actual name?"

"That's the thing..." Elliot began, "Nobody knows."

"How the hell is that even possible?" Spyro asked.

Elliot shrugged, "He is known only by his codename back during his SEAL days...Bleu and I hacked into the FBI's database, and unfortunately, there is literally nothing on 'Necro', all of his information has been wiped clean, not even blacked out, the man doesn't exist...yet the Navy still has records of the guy. 'Necro' has no identity, all of his records have been removed, which can explain why we couldn't identify the other prints on the bomb that blew the dam."

"You think 'Necro' had something to do with that?" Spyro asked.

"Oh, I wouldn't doubt it," Elliot added. "From what I _could _collect on 'Necro', he's mean, he's deadly, and he's efficient. He has a rep for being a huge strategist, he carefully thinks out his next move before he acts, and he's very highly respected by both the feds and civvies alike. He also has one hell of a rap sheet of successful ops, both classified _and _declassified. He's a career sailor, that much we found out, worked his ass off to become a SEAL, and he did a damn fine job of it up until he was honorably discharged following a nasty encounter with P.T.S.D that left him and a dozen other SEALs wounded. Probably another huge part of deleting him from the world was to protect him."

"Any other reasons as to why he doesn't exist?"

"Well, a few years ago, one of his missions went awry, a lotta civilians were killed, in...I wanna say either Turkey or Greece. He got himself into a lot of trouble, but because his operations are considered an act of war, the U.S wanted to completely remove themselves from association...they couldn't quite take him out, because his mission was, for all intents and purposes a success. Instead, they chose to remove him from their databases, and he went under the radar. Nobody's heard about him up until Mabao decided to ascend him to commanding the entire _Maxia_."

"So...the all-important question...do we need to worry about him?"

Elliot nodded, "Yes, 'Necro' is very well trained, and highly skilled, he's deadly, and the _Maxia _and their sympathizers absolutely _love _the guy. Hell, most of Mabao's troops and loyalists see 'Necro' as almost messianic."

"So why haven't we heard of him?" Cynder asked, "Surely someone of such high notoriety among the peasants would have attracted our attention earlier."

"You're guess is as good as mine. Anyway, this is, unfortunately, all I could collect on him...I know it's not a lot, but it's all we got."

"What do you suggest we do with him then?" Alex asked.

Elliot shrugged, "We'll keep an eye out...'Necro' seems to be a backseat driver, whether it's his own choice, or Mabao is forcing him off the front lines. Odds are we won't encounter him in person...Mabao has guys like the Tartarus Unit to do that for him."

"If the Tartarus Unit is our only problem, then I ain't worried," Spyro remarked, "They're nothing but a bunch of bumbling buffoons, half the time they can't even do their shit right...but 'Necro' _did _seem pretty PO'd about them shooting up the school."

"Yeah," Alex began, "Mabao sent them to 'Necro' for 'reeducation' and another stint of BMT...could that be a problem?"

"Uh...well considering that 'Necro' is a SEAL, and one of the deadliest SEALs of all time, I'd be a little scared of what he can turn those two idiots into...that is, giving they don't fuck up their training, which, from what I've seen, is pretty likely."

"What do we do?" Cynder asked.

Elliot shrugged, "Nothin' we can do...I'll keep you posted...but for now, just be ready for anything. With 'Necro' on the _Maxia_'s side, we can potentially be in some very deep trouble in the future."

"How do you think he got a hold of the serum?" Spyro asked.

"I'm not sure, Spearow," Elliot said, grimacing, "But I don't like it...if the _Maxia _have the serum, then it's only a matter of time before they create a poison or an antidote to counteract it, meaning we're in trouble. Plus, you saw those big guys? Found out that Mabao calls him his 'Elite Ops' unit, or Elites for short."

"'Necro' was mutated, too..." Alex began, "He was able to talk to us via telepathy."

"Fucking hell..." the general growled, "That's not good at all!"

"Guess it's time to start creating an anti-serum poison ourselves, huh?"

"Yeah, Bleu has a few ideas though," Elliot replied, "Something about mixing the gunpowder with a chemical that can completely neutralize the serum. You'll have to talk to him about it, I don't know the details."

"Wonder how much time we have..."

"Until what, Spearow?"

"Until the _Maxia _find a way to eliminate our mutations...to find a way to kill us..."

"Don't worry about it," Alex replied, "Worst case scenario, we just gotta tread more carefully...best case scenario? We stop them before they have a chance to figure out how to stop us."

"Guess we'll see what happens then," Spyro sighed.

"Indeed we will," Alex replied.

"As said, I'll keep you updated," Elliot growled, "Dismissed."


	14. Chapter XIII: Attack of the Hermann-Reid

_**Chapter XIII**_**:**

**-''Attack of the Hermann-Reid''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**03 March 2010: Six Months Later...**_**-**

**-**_**0241 Hours**_**-**

"_You said you would never leave me...that you loved me...was it all a lie?"_

Alex groaned in his sleep, shifting positions.

"_You said that I was special, that you cared about me...that you wanted me to be happy...if you meant it, then why am I all alone...why aren't you here? You wanted my trust and you earned it...and I gave you something I had never given anyone else...where are you? I need you..."_

He shook his head in his sleep, trying to chase the voice away.

"_Please...I need you...come find me, save me, Alex, please, come find me...I want to be with you...do you not want to be with me?"_

Alex shot up in bed, awakening in a cold sweat. Once more, the unknown girl was tormenting his sleeping mind. Who was she? What did she want from him? The amount of hurt and sorrow in her voice was enough to deeply sadden him, and he found himself wishing that he was wherever she was to comfort her, although she was a complete stranger to him...or was she? Although he could not recall ever meeting the girl before, and her voice was alien to him, there was also a certain familiarity with her...it was almost as if he had met her a long time ago. For a second, he wondered if it could be Sabrina, a grade school crush...his first _ever_ crush, the girl who lived across the street from him when he was a child, following his escape from the Tan Army and subsequent return to his family in Connorsville. However, after several moments of thought, he decided that this wasn't, that it couldn't, be the case. She sounded and acted nothing like the Sabrina he knew. Even though it had been at least five years since he had last seen her, he doubted that she could change so drastically. This girl that kept talking to him through his dreams, she sounded young, and she seemed miserable.

He was overcome with the inexplicable urge to just be there to comfort her. He wanted to befriend her, to comfort her, and spend time with her, and he didn't know why. He also felt, almost attracted to her somehow, and he had the feeling that she was attracted to him.

"Who are you?" he asked his empty bedroom, "Where are you? What do you want from me?"

Of course, there was no response, only the sound of the machines above his room, cycling, pumping, and filtering air from the surface down here. With a sigh, he laid back down, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought, until his eyes grew heavy and sleep fell upon him once again, this time, the mysterious presence was nowhere to be found.

The next morning, he was the last to awake, joining the rest of Alpha Company in the nearby cafeteria, eating breakfast. He groaned as he plopped down on the bench, rubbing his temple and reaching into his pocket for ibuprofen to stave off the headache. "You look like shit," Piermont chortled, spooning scrambled eggs into his mouth.

"I _feel _like shit," he responded, "Tired of this chick haunting my dreams."

"I see..." he replied.

"Do you even know who she is yet?" Spyro asked, "Or if she's even real?"

"I have no idea," Alex sighed, "All I know is that whoever she is, she won't leave me the hell alone."

"We sure she's even real?" Cynder queried.

Alex slowly shook his head, "Yeah, she's gotta be, but I don't know anything else about her...she acts like I should know her."

"Maybe it's someone from your past?"

"Doubt it, Pierre," the Commander sighed, "She doesn't remind me of anyone I may know...and you know as well as I do that I can count the number of human females I've interacted with on a single hand."

"Well...maybe she's _not _human?" Cynder shrugged.

"She seems to think we're lovers, I think...and sorry, Cyn, but I've never screwed an animal."

"Yet anyway..." and Alex glared at her.

"Well...I've been reading up on stuff like this..." Crash suddenly said, "And I have a theory."

"Hit me."

"Maybe she's a tulpa."

"A...tulpa?"

"Yeah."

"The hell is a 'tulpa'?"

"A tulpa is a thoughtform given sentience due to sheer will and concentration on behalf of the host. Basically, a glorified imaginary friend, made real by the amount of attention the creator puts into them, basically the creator wills his or herself into believing that the tulpa is real, and thus, the tulpa becomes real to them...a willed hallucination if you will."

"Why would I create a tulpa? Hell, why would I have need for even an imaginary friend?"

"Well..." Piermont interrupted, "You are in pursuit of a girlfriend...maybe you're so desperate, whether or not you realize it, that you're mind decided to create one for you, subconsciously."

Alex shook his head, "I doubt I have an imaginary girlfriend."

"How about this," Piermont began, throwing down the fork onto his empty plate and popping his neck muscles, "I'll take you to a strip club, get you laid, will that make things better for you?"

Alex sighed.

"I'm serious, man!"

"That's not gonna work, Pierre."

"You don't know that."

"Fine then, I hate strippers and whores, the hell you think I'm not attracted to females of my own species? Most of 'em are sluts, at least the ones I know, I can't find a respectable, Christian girl anywhere, not much anymore."

"There's Sarah..." Spyro nodded.

"Yeah, but she's outta my league."

"Have you tried?" Cynder asked.

"Nope."

"Then you don't really know that, do you?"

"Don't wanna take the chance..."

"Fine then," Piermont growled, baring his teeth, "I'll hook you up with someone from Alpha...sure one of our girls wouldn't mind showing you a good time, worse comes to worse, I bet Cherub wouldn't mind it," and the golden field dragon nodded, grinning mischievously.

Alex shook his head, "You're not helping, Pierre."

"Hell, I'll hook you up with Cynder," and he grinned.

The she-dragon glanced up briefly at Piermont, her eyes briefly snapping to Alex, before she looked down towards the table again, ignoring a flash of heat traveling throughout her body, settling in her loins.

"I don't need a girl," Alex scowled, "Especially not one from Alpha. I have morals."

"Bullshit."

"Just...leave me be..." and he stood up and stormed away.

"I think you pissed him off, Pierre..." Spyro stated.

"Bah! It's just his time of the month, he'll get over it."

"You okay, Cyn?"

The she-dragon gasped as she looked up in surprise towards Spyro, appearing concerned, "I'm...I'm fine...that's all...just dazed out again..."

"You sure?"

She nodded, "Yeah..."

As Alpha Company returned to their normal conversations, Cynder looked around before whispering towards Spyro, "I'm going to go check up on Alex."

He nodded as she excused herself, running after him.

She found him sitting by the pool where they had chatted one sleepless night what seemed like ages earlier. He was staring into the water, eyes distant, lost in thought. "Everything okay?" she asked, sitting beside him.

He shrugged, "Yeah...I'm just...trying to figure out who this girl is. She's been tormenting my dreams for some time now...ever since before the _Maxia _declared war on us, actually. I just want to get to the bottom of this."

"Well...think about it for a second...have you seen her in your dreams yet? Or is it just an audio thing?"

He shrugged, "I've seen her only a few times as a ball of light...that's about it, I have yet to see her true presence, pending she even _has _one."

"Well...does she _sound _familiar?"

He fell silent for a few moments before slowly nodding, "Kinda...and this is what's weird. It's like...it's like I knew her a long time ago, that maybe we sat down and talked for awhile. She _seems _familiar, but at the same time, I don't know where I could have ever experienced her before. She's not human, I know that much."

"How?"

"She's got this weird...thing...about her voice, it almost has a kinda half-growl, half-whine/whistle thing to it. Almost reminds me of something like a dolphin."

"Well...do you know any dolphins?"

He grinned, "Nah, or at least, never been up close and personal to one. When I was younger and still lived with my parents, they brought me to a dolphin show once or twice, but I never got to see them up close, and even then, I would know if one talked to me."

"Do you have a name?"

He shook his head, "No, I don't, sadly. Most of the messages she sends me don't even really seem to be conscious. I don't know if she's drugged up or intoxicated, maybe she's sleep-talking, but she doesn't seem 'all there' when she talks to me, if that makes sense."

Cynder nodded, "Kinda. Well...maybe whoever she is...maybe she's somehow talking to you in her sleep, and you, to her, is like she is to you? Y'know...maybe she's also dealing with weird dreams concerning some random dude that both seems familiar and not at the same time."

"She knows my name..."

"And what does that mean, exactly?"

"You'd think I'd know hers, too, if we were talking to each other through our dreams."

"Maybe she knows you, but you don't know her? Maybe she's seen you or heard of you from somewhere, but never actually got a chance to introduce herself to you...maybe she was too shy?"

"You think it's a girl I may know?"

"Well...maybe. Or it could be someone that you've passed by and never noticed, but has noticed you, maybe even crushed on you without you realizing. Kinda like your crush passing by you in the hallway at school, not even realizing you exist."

He chuckled, "Ah, but I know for a fact that there's nobody crushing on me. Hell, I have a pool of more enemies than friends. The only friends I have, and care to have, are in Alpha Co. Every girl could care less about little old me."

She snorted, "I know for a fact that is a lie."

"Huh?" and he seemed genuinely caught off guard.

Cynder nodded, "Yeah," and she grinned, "Buddy, there's at least _one _person I know of that's crushing on you."

"Really? Who?"

"Isn't my place to tell," she responded, "But she secretly likes you, actually thinks about you a lot."

"Do I know her?"

She nodded, "Mm hmm...here's a hint...she's even Alpha Company."

"_What!?_" and he nearly fell out of his seat in surprise, "Someone in Alpha is crushing on me? No shit?"

"No shit."

"How the hell...?"

She shrugged, "I don't know...but apparently you did something they like. Cause they like you, quite a bit actually. They're just afraid to pursue a relationship."

"Why?"

"Probably because she's an animal, and she's afraid about how you'd react to such a thing. Would be horrible if she gathered the courage to tell you how she feels, only for you to reject her because you, as a human, don't wanna get romantically involved with something not of your own species."

He sighed, scratching the back of his head, "Well...it's not like I'd say no..."

"Pardon?"

"C'mon, you know me, Cyn...I care more about you guys than anyone else. I'm sure if a girl here really was interested in a committed relationship with me, I can excuse the species barrier."

She grinned, feeling another flush of heat throughout her body at the knowledge that _she_, was, in fact, his secret admirer. She only hoped that the characteristic odor of an aroused dragoness was beyond his range of smell. "Well...I'll tell her that perhaps she won't need to worry as much as she does...but whether or not she gets the nerve to admit the truth to you is up to her, so I'm not gonna spill the beans on who she is. Though when you find out," and she winked at him, "Come find me, I wanna know, wanna see your reaction."

"Heh...it's a date."

"Anyway," and she stood up, stretching, "Don't get too worked up in who this dream chick is, okay? I'm sure your questions will be answered soon."

"I friggin' hope so..."

"They will be..." and she hugged him, "Don't worry about it, okay? Also, don't mind Pierre, he's just worried about you beating yourself up over all this."

He sighed, "I guess..."

"Anyway, if you ever need someone to talk to...I'm here for you, okay?"

He nodded, and with a smile, she left, returning to where the rest of Alpha Company continued their conversation. She slipped back next to Spyro, with no one else seeming to have noticed her absence.

_Did you talk to him? _he asked her telepathically.

She nodded, subtle enough for him to catch it, but not enough for the others to, _He's stressing out over this whole situation with the girl._

_Why?_

She shrugged, _I don't know, he just is._

As Alex headed back to where the rest of Alpha Company was sitting, his train of thought had derailed from the girl plaguing his sleep, to Cynder's reveal. He pondered who in Alpha Company could be interested in him. Nala was more than happy with Simba and Simba only, aside from that one accidental encounter with Kiara, there was nothing really between them, and she didn't seem to even remember what happened, nor did she seem interested. Cherub was possible, considering the she-dragon had offered to let him mate her on more than one occasion, although he figured it was more of his tension bleeding off to Piermont and annoying them both that contributed to that. Then his mind fell upon Cynder, and he chuckled. Secretly, he hoped that it was her, and he had the faintest feeling that it was, more than once she seemed to get a little too...close...to him to make up for simple friendship, especially when they were alone, keeping a noticeable distance between them when in the presence of others. In addition to that, there was a certain odor around her that only surfaced during these private times, and most recently just earlier, as she was speaking to him about a secret admirer within his ranks, and according to Piermont, during one of their random conversations, female dragons were notorious for producing a certain odor when they were sexually aroused. Then again, he could be misinterpreting signals, which wasn't unusual, and his heart sank as he suddenly remembered the day he finally got the nerve to ask Sabrina out, she had rejected him, and although it had been a very gentle let down, it still hit him hard.

He decided to play it safe, however, and wait it out. If she wanted him to know it was her, she would tell him when she felt ready to. He personally didn't mind either, there was definitely something about her, something that attracted him deeply, and it wasn't just her sleek, very feminine and curvy form, either. Upon his return, he found Spyro and Cynder cuddling together, their tails intertwined, and he wondered for a brief moment if they had mated yet.

"You done moping around like some emo fucker?" Piermont chuckled.

"Screw you, Pierre."

"Nah, I'll leave that for your nonexistent girlfriend."

Alex was overcome with the urge to clock the human-form dragon a healthy one across the face, but decided against it. No sense in wasting energy on him, or getting into trouble from a pointless fight.

"You called for us, sir?" Observer began, leading Xerxes into the war room of the presidential bunker beneath an undisclosed city. For safety purposes, they had been blindfolded until they were actually in the bunker, so they had no idea where they were.

"Yes, I did..." Mabao began, stepping aside. General 'Necro' stood tall and erect, arms crossed behind his back, grinning. Both members of the Tartarus Unit, memory of their harsh, SEAL-level training all too recent in their minds, recoiled at the sight of his menacing stature, "The General would like to have a few words with you two."

They both physically gulped. "Gentlemen, I have a task for you...but I need to know that I can trust you two to follow my orders without question, do you understand me?"

They both nodded, "Sir! Yes, sir!" Observer replied firmly, saluting.

"Excellent," and the general walked towards them, handing them each a dossier from the glass table he had been standing before. As they skimmed through it, he continued, "In two days' time, I will be launching a direct assault on the Montana Quads, which the Terminators have unified and renamed New Alexandria. I have put together a division of the finest men and women this army has to offer. In two days, the Hermann-Reid 1st Armoured Division will have their baptism by fire, and New Alexandria will be crushed beneath the treads of five thousand tanks. You two will be at the heart of the force, I hope that the training you've completed will pay off. There is much riding on this operation, and I refuse to have this mission be my the first mark of failure in my entire military career, do you maggots understand that?"

"Sir! Yes, sir!"

"Good..." and he grinned, "This is a high-risk operation, so it is mandatory that you study that folder like it's the goddamn Bible. The Terminator Militia have nuclear weapons and nerve gas warheads stored beneath their city...we're gonna light it up like the 4th of July. Study that dossier, rest up, and report back here tomorrow morning for your briefing. You two are dismissed."

Once they had left, Mabao asked, "You think they'll fuck it up?"

'Necro', victorious grin rapidly disintegrating into a harsh, grim frown, turned to face the president, "Unfortunately, I would not be surprised if they did. Those two idiots can screw up even the simplest of objectives..." and he grinned again, "That's why I have a contingency plan...an...old friend...of Commander Spyro and General Cynder has agreed to join us. Bonus points, he's ordered to kill those bumbling buffoons, the Tartarus Unit, if they get in his way to which he gladly obliges."

Mabao smiled, "Does the public know he's working for us?"

'Necro' shook his head, "Negative, and if the Tartarus Unit is killed in action, rest assured the American public will know that it was the Terminator Militia responsible for their deaths, not us. Two birds with one stone."

"And what if the militia defeats your force?"

"The odds of them meeting with success are slim, but in the event they do, we will at least expose the truth of what our friends are hiding beneath their city. It will instill fear in the public, especially among surrounding cities, so even if they win the battle, morale with the public will continue to diminish as fear grabs hold of them."

Early in the morning on the dawn of the invasion, Alpha Company slept soundly beneath New Alexandria. Even Alex was greeted with a dreamless sleep, free from the entity that had been haunting him for the past several months. In the adjacent room, Spyro and Cynder slept tangled together, when something roused them. Cynder was the first to awaken, something was coming...a dozen internal alarms were blaring at once, and she was overcome with a very grim feeling. The only time she had fell something this peculiar was when... "Oh no..." she began, shaking her head, "Can't be..."

"What's wrong?" Spyro sleepily asked, untangling himself from his friend and stretching.

"Something's coming..." and she hopped out of bed, running into Alex's room and shaking him awake, "Get up!" she hissed.

Alex nearly jumped up in his bed, reaching for his waist on reflex. Once he realized who it was, he grunted and fell back onto his bed, "What is it, Cyn?"

"Something's coming! I've got a _very _bad feeling!"

"Well...come wake me when it happens..." and as he closed his eyes again, the first of a series of quakes rocked the world.

"We need to move!" Cynder spat.

"Alert the others, we need to head back to the surface!"

"Wakey, wakey you furry sons of bitches!" Xerxes howled with wild laughter from the interior of a helicopter as the Hermann-Reid unleashed the first barrage of artillery strikes against the walled city. "Time to come out and play!"

He had mounted one of the miniguns attached to the side, with Observer on the other, awaiting the clear to fire towards the empty city, now almost entirely drained of water. "Try not to let 'Necro' down again, Rick," Observer spat, "I'm tired of getting punished because of your clumsiness!"

"Keep getting too excited back there, and you're bound to fall out," their pilot smirked, "Don't expect me to catch you either."

"Screw you guys!" Xerxes growled, once more readying himself for the signal to fire.

As the Commander's Wing surfaced, taking to the skies and heading towards the Burned Lands south of the city, Alex's eyes widened at the sight of the immense Hermann-Reid Division. "Mother of Christ!" Piermont howled.

"That's a lotta tanks..." Cynder managed, just as another artillery barrage lay into the walls, Piermont strafing to avoid the rockets coming down from their arc onto the walls.

"Don't let them near us!" Alex roared, "Hold 'em off!" and he tapped his earpiece, "Elliot we got a major problem over here!"

"I know," the general replied grimly, "We've already dispatched forces to engage them, you do what you can to hold them off."

"I've never seen an army so big before..." Spyro said in an unsure tone.

"Definitely General 'Necro''s doing," Elliot sighed, "He's always been one to make a statement."

Now flying low over the Burned Lands, Piermont dove to flame the front lines in an attempt to drive them back, or at least halt their progress. When they showed no sign of slowing, he moved to make another pass before a flurry of shells whizzed around him, and he, deeming it unsafe to continue, pulled back into the skies high above the city.

"We need to take out their artillery..." Alex began, "If we can neutralize these barrages, we can get forces up on the walls' ramparts to hold the fort..." then, "Pierre, drop me off on the Southern Ramparts, I'll take up one of our triple A's mounted on the walls, you try to flame their ass end, hopefully get to work on those cannons."

"Rah," Piermont responded, perching on the rampart and crouching low to allow Alex to dismount. Once he was off, the Commander smacked his dragon's flank, seeing Piermont off before sprinting over to one of the triple A railguns lining the walls. Within minutes, the walls were full of fellow soldiers fighting back the _Maxian _front, and as Alex watched them get shot and blown around, only to stand up again, their wounds healing, he breathed a sigh of relief at the fact that they had managed to mutate most, if not all, of their forces. Still, Alpha Company, given the highest dosage and strongest concentration of the serum, was the dominating force on the playing field, and although the defenders were in a state of joy over their new abilities, Alex still found it easy to assert his authority over the lesser companies, driving away, at least temporarily, one of his biggest worries and fears.

Spyro and Cynder flew alongside Piermont, trying to distract the guns long enough for the bigger dragon to get out of reach. They dogged the machines of war, dodging any fire that came their way and flaming the vehicles responsible. Even then, however, the Hermann-Reid stretched beyond the horizon, seemingly endless. "This isn't working..." Cynder frowned, "We need to find another way."

"Keep nickle and diming them," Spyro replied, "They can't go on forever."

"Yeah? Neither can we...is Elliot gonna bring Beta Company here?"

"Haven't heard."

"If he's smart, he would, else we're not gonna stand a chance out here."

Now almost upon the first of the Hermann-Reid's artillery batteries, the swifter Spyro and Cynder worked to supply suppressing fire in order to open a path for the larger and bulkier Piermont to slip in. As soon as they brought the last man down, the forest dragon opened his emerald maw, spewing a tongue of white flame down upon the entire battery, igniting the magazines and sending the weapons up in smoke and flame.

With one cluster of howitzers down, they moved towards the second cluster in the chain, but not before reinforcements for the _Maxia _arrived from the south, with an unknown number of Elite infantrymen mingling with the armor. "This isn't good..." Spyro stated, eyes wide.

"You see what I mean, now?" then, "Spyro! Look out!"

He barely managed to avoid an RPG via aileron roll, diving low and flaming the soldier responsible. "Thanks for that..." he said to the she-dragon.

She nodded, "Don't mention it," before diving down to clear out the next howitzer battery.

Alex fire relentlessly towards the fast-approaching front, finding that there were far too many to repulse, and that they seemed to have almost a hydra-like effect, as soon as he brought one down, two more seemed to take its place. "This is friggin' ridiculous!" he growled, trying to take down whatever tanks passed the line of husks he had already created. Within minutes, they reached the walls, and were thus out of range of his gun. He dismounted, trying to get out of the line of fire from the machines beneath him, but the world quaked beneath him as the tanks all fired in perfect harmony into the wall, sending him to the ground. As he picked himself up, the world quaked yet again, and the ramparts collapsed, taking him down to the ground. In a daze, he stared at the surrounding tanks, all taking aim towards him.

Before he could react, however, a blinding ring of hot fire completely encircled him, and Piermont landed just inside the ring, crouching forward, "Hop on!"

"Talk about perfect timing!" Alex exclaimed, scampering onto his mount's back as Piermont launched himself into the air, flying back out towards the back of the invasion force, Spyro and Cynder flying circles around him.

With shells firing around them, Piermont, popping his neck muscles, bellowed, "Hold onto your lunch, mate!" and he committed a barrel roll to avoid the blasts, flaming the forces beneath him on his approach back to the remaining artillery batteries.

"Listen up!" Alex began, "Drop me off at the nearest battery, let's split up to take these things down!"

"Yeah, and then you get cornered by these fuckers again and you die! I don't think so!"

"Trust me, I can handle it!"

"Dude! I just saved your freakin' life!"

"I was caught off guard, trust me, Pierre!"

"Fucking..." then he sighed, "Fine, have it your way! But if you die, I _will _get there first and tell God to bar you outta Heaven,s you hear me?"

Alex chuckled, "Fair enough."

"What a way to test our whether we planned correctly, huh?" Spyro asked.

"Yeah, no shit, man," Alex replied.

"She's holding up better than I anticipated..."

"Yeah, but don't jinx us."

"Wilco."

"Where's our fuckin' Sentinels!?" Piermont growled, referring to the heavy, triple A automated turrets set up around the area to defend the city from anything the radar picked up that wasn't identified by an IFF search through the mainframe stored beneath New Alexandria.

"We're outta range," Alex replied, "We didn't put any up out here. They're in the city, but not out here."

"Well congratulations! We found a flaw in your little strategy!"

Alex shrugged, "Bound to happen, just be glad it's as minor as that and not something more serious."

"Minor my ass! If we can't keep these assholes outta the city, how can we keep it defended!?"

"Worse comes to worse, we pull back, we have more than enough room to move around in, just do not let them take too much if they _do _get in."

"Die Alpha scum!"

"Oh crap..." both Alex and Piermont said in unison, then, together with Spyro and Cynder, they identified the voices, "Tartarus Unit..."

Their gunship maneuvered into view, taking up a strafing run alongside the wing of dragons as it fired its wing-mounted, heat-seeking rockets toward the trio. Turning to face Xerxes, who was firing a minigun fixed to the side of the machine, Alex roared, "Don't know when to give up, do ya?"

"You bastards have made our lives nothing but misery! I'm tired of you standing in our way and us taking punishment for _your _mistakes!"

"Says the dumbass who'd forgot that he's the face of the _Maxia _and shot up an entire fucking school just for the hell of it?"

He howled an almost inhuman screech as he fired continuously towards them, trying to clip them. He proved to be not-so-surprisingly inaccurate with the weapon, and although he didn't deplete the entire belt, he _did _manage to overheat the weapon...somehow. When it locked up on him, steaming, he let out a stream of curses, reaching into the machine beside him and pulling out a SPAS-12 shotgun, armed with incendiary rounds. Piermont evaded the shots, drawing ever closer to the open door as Xerxes tried to ground him. Finally, just as he wasted the last shell, Piermont, flying almost directly beneath the machine by this point, launched forward, bashing into its belly and knocking it around. Xerxes cried out as he fell back into the machine's interior, and Alex leaped off his mount, grabbing onto the landing skids and pulling himself up into the machine.

"Get out!" Xerxes roared, throwing his dropped shotgun at Alex, who leaned to the side to dodge the throw as the weapon tumbled out of the side of the machine and down onto the rocky ground below. Alex charged forward, tackling Xerxes and pounding on him relentlessly. Within seconds, the rest of the gunship's occupants had joined the fight, attempting to throw the Commander out. He fought back, withdrawing his combat knife and slaughtering the extra fighters until it was only him and Xerxes once again. As he brought the blade above his head to bring it down into the fat man's chest, Observer grabbed onto his arm, kneeing him in the nose and knocking the Commander to the ground, his knife sliding across the floor of the gunship. Xerxes crawled towards the back of the gunship, picking himself up while Observer, armed with a bayonet attached to his carbine, tried to stab the Commander. Piermont flew beneath the gunship again, rearing up and slamming his entire mass into its belly, once more throwing both the machine itself and its occupants around inside.

Spyro and Cynder rushed through, slashing and snapping at the two men, namely Observer, who picked them from the sky and threw them back out of the gunship again. "Damn it, Rick! CLOSE THE _FUCKING_ DOOR!"

Behind them, Piermont latched onto the skids of the helicopter, stabbing his bloodstained maw into the interior and snapping around at the Tartarus Unit inside. Xerxes quickly picked himself up again, slamming the sliding side door into Piermont's head and neck repeatedly. With a pained roar, the dragon reached one forearm into the gunship and effortlessly tossed Xerxes into the cockpit, slapping him against the pilot who, eliciting several swears, struggled to regain control over the machine. With the Tartarus Unit temporarily distracted by Piermont, Alex crawled over to his dropped knife, picking it up and preparing to throw it at Observer, now rushing him. Before he could toss the weapon, Observer pounced upon him, beating him relentlessly with steel gauntlets. Alex kicked him in the chest once to knock him back, then, rapidly picking himself up, the Commander grabbed onto the man's shirt, slamming him against the walls several times before forcing him out the side of the gunship.

"_JOHN!_" Xerxes exclaimed, running towards the Commander, who casually picked up a tranquilizer rifle that had spilled out of a cabinet following the last bout of turbulence from Piermont's thrashing, and smacked the fat man across the side of the head with the butt of the rifle. As his final act, Alex reached around the cockpit chair and stabbed the pilot in the chest with his combat knife, driving it in before ripping it free, splattering blood on the window. The pilot slumped forward, sending the gunship into a deadly nosedive, Alex helped Piermont free from the machine, and once the dragon had stabilized his fall and hovered just beneath the falling gunship, Alex leaped out, grabbing onto one of the dragon's spines and pulling himself up, swinging back into position between two spines at the base of Piermont's neck. Spyro and Cynder rejoined them in midflight, and they watched as the gunship crashed into the ground beneath them, trapping two tanks in the process.

Piermont snorted as blood ran from one of his nostrils and sparks danced across his face and neck, "Those assholes are _really _starting to piss me off."

"You're not the only one, Pierre," Alex sighed, and he heard a very distant, distinct growl. It was definitely a dragon's roar, but not like any he had heard before. "The hell...? Did you hear that?"

"Did Elliot finally bring Beta Company here?" Piermont growled, "Anyway, we have bigger things to worry about."

"Right, the batteries...drop me off at the one just up here."

"Roger," and he flew low and fast over an untouched battery of howitzers as Alex leaped off his mount, armed with his AK47, equipped with an ACOG scope and laser sight. He brought down the _Maxia_ around him, praying his thanks they weren't Elites, before turning his attentions to the circle of howitzers firing towards Piermont, who was already a mile and a half away, pestering the battery several down in the chain. Neutralizing the gun crews, Alex set to work on setting grenades up to ignite the stockpiled ammunition, positioned haphazardly around the guns. He dove for cover in a nearby crater, holding his breath as a tank traveled over it, the belly of the tank literally less than a foot above his nose. Once it passed the crater and traveled a few yards closer to the city, a friendly artillery round blew it to pieces, and Alex, picking himself up and brushing the dirt off his uniform, sprinted towards the nearest artillery battery.

He brought this down in a similar manner to the last, stealing the grenades from felled soldiers to ignite the ammunition, and upon taking down the third one in the chain, Piermont landed amidst the smoldering husks of the decimated howitzers, allowing his mount to climb up. "Elliot wants us back at the ramparts," Piermont began, "These guys are _this _close to punching through our gates, and he needs up to meet 'em when they bust through."

"Roger, let's go."

"Spearow and Cyn got the rest of the artillery."

"Got it."

Several minutes later, Piermont landed just inside the city gates, shaking the sweat off his scales as he got himself into an ambushing position. Not a word was spoken as a small battalion of soldiers positioned themselves almost reminiscent of a phalanx, with three columns of tanks to provide further support, waiting patiently for the _Maxia_ to breach the gates. There was no holding off the inevitable, they were already at the outer gates, out of range of the wall-mounted weapons, and in the eerie silence as the battle outside the walls calmed down between waves, they could hear the vicious barking of orders as the _Maxia _readied to breach.

"Get ready..." Alex whispered.

Spyro and Cynder continued their onslaught on the second to last battery of howitzers when they heard an all-too-familiar roar, first distant, but growing closer alarmingly quick. "Oh no..." Spyro began, suddenly worried.

"That better not be who I think it is..." Cynder replied, growing pale.

When the roar sounded again, right on them, they turned to the southwest, watching as a mighty purple dragon arched in the skies above, hovering in place and grinning maddeningly. "Spyro, Cynder...it has been far too long..."

"Malefor..." Spyro managed, voice small.

"Oh no..." Cynder responded.

With another vicious, deafening roar, Malefor charged towards them, opening his great maw. The two smaller dragons rolled out of the way of a fire blast from the larger dragon, quickly switching to an ice-based breath as he fired a barrage of icy missiles towards the two Realm dragons. They dodged this as well and began to retreat towards New Alexandria.

"And where do you two think you are going?" Malefor continued, laughing a deep, throaty, guttural sound as he pursued them, preparing to fire a bolt of electricity towards them.

Alex was not quite sure what happened next. One second, he was crouching behind a Tiger II tank, the scope on his weapon trained towards the gates, heart racing in his ears as he waited in anticipation for the _Maxian _breach, the very next, he was on the ground on his back, ears ringing, the smoky world in slow motion as he saw shapes, mere silhouettes of people charging forward, bayonets fixed to the ends of their weapons. One charged towards him, preparing to stab, he leaned to the right, dodging the attack before swiping his leg beneath his assailant, sending him to the ground. Using the man as a human shield, Alex made his way back towards the rapidly retreating tanks, firing towards the fast approaching _Maxian _soldiers and tanks, pouring through the smoke obscuring the gates, or what was left of them, from view. Eventually, he reached the nearest reversing tank, throwing the corpse aside, flinching under the fire as he scurried onto the turret, throwing open the doors and dropping down inside. Once he had regained his composure, he poked his head out again, manning the mounted M240 and firing towards the charging soldiers.

_Alex...we got a _big _problem... _Spyro thought to him.

_Yeah, we do...the _Maxia _broke through into the city, and they've blown our defensive line to smithereens!_

"INCOMING!" Spyro howled, he and Cynder rapidly flapping past the Commander.

"Hell you going!?" he snapped, ducking back into the hatch as a massive purple dragon flew mere feet overheard, dogging the two dragons. "The _hell_!?" he exclaimed, jaw dropped.

Spyro and Cynder flew over the Military District, Malefor hot on their heels. As they had hoped, his arrival triggered the Sentinels to activate, and now taking heavy fire from the automated railguns, the massive purple dragon, realizing what they had done, began to retreat back out of the city limits, back into the safety of the southern Agricultural District, just outside the inner walls of the city, now almost entirely under _Maxian _control. The two dragons, with a firm nod towards each other, followed behind, dogging him with their own elemental breaths. He managed to reach the city outskirts largely unscathed, but not before aiding the _Maxian _advance by taking down another defensive line that had begun to form around the breach to halt the _Maxia _pouring through. They landed on the ruined ramparts, watching as he slowed to a hover, rotating and growling towards them, "Your city will fall, and I will have the pleasure of removing you two pests, permanently!"

Spyro and Cynder exchanged unsure glances before Malefor, opening his maw, charged towards them, breathing a steady stream of fire down onto the path before him. "Oh crap!" Spyro roared, commanding towards the splintered defenders below, "GET OFF THE STREET! NOW!"

The two dragons chased their allies across the Everett Bridge, a suspension bridge that went over the lake that encircled the city proper, through the southern Business District, and into the nearby underground access, Malefor's line of fire zooming past the street behind them. The dragons shepherded the rest of their disorganized unit through a steel door and down into the labyrinthine network of railway tunnels that sprawled out in and around the city. Calling a car to them, they held the platform against an onslaught of _Maxian _soldiers, spotted with a half-dozen Elites, and when the car finally arrived, allowing them an escape, the two dragons were the last ones of their unit standing. Rocketing forward, Cynder set the car on autopilot, taking the HMG on the back of the car, while Spyro took the front.

"Alpha, you guys still alive out there?"

"Roger," Spyro responded, tapping his earpiece, "We're still here, Elliot."

"We got a situation..."

"If it's about the giant fucking dragon terrorizing the city, we already know."

"What?" Elliot exclaimed.

"What is it, Elliot?" Cynder spat, "We don't have time here."

"The _Maxia _have managed to hack our stockpile of missiles. We have four nukes and three Nova nerve gas missiles that are prepping to fire, beyond our control."

"Route us to the nearest access, and we'll stop them," Cynder replied.

"Roger...you're set...better hold onto your britches, you'll be pulling right into the heart of _Maxia_-occupied territory...these bastards are moving and gathering faster than I've ever seen before...fucking 'Necro'."

"Got it," Cynder replied.

Crash then spoke over the line, "Simba, Nala, and I are also heading to one of the mainframes, we're about fifteen minutes out."

"Yeah, well the _Maxia _have got these bombs set to detonate in twenty minutes, you better hurry."

"Can't you deactivate them?" Spyro asked.

"Negative, you can only access the database from several specific ports, even then, they've locked us out of...just about everything, I still have control over the power grid here in the underground, that's about it."

"We're on our way."

"Good to hear, make me proud, you two."

When the railcar slowed to a stop at another platform, Spyro and Cynder quickly dismounted, heading back through the access to the surface. Upon emergence, they found themselves in the basement of an overrun office building. They fought their way to the second floor, where a group of _Maxian _soldiers, thankfully not _Elites_, were sifting through a computer network from several terminals. Cutting through the soldiers, they made their way to the front of the room, where Spyro took a seat at one of the computers. "Okay, Elliot, I'm here...what do I do?"

The general walked him through the process as the purple dragon disengaged the missiles and canceled the launch of several missiles. When Crash called them to inform them that they had disengaged their share of the active W.M.D's, Elliot soon called the two dragons back, "Problem..."

"What _now_?" Cynder hissed.

"One of our nerve gas missiles ain't responding...you two think you can manually override it from the silo?"

"Where's the silo?"

"In the mountains, you shouldn't miss it...look for the big fucking hole opening up in the middle of it."

They were interrupted as a group of _Maxian _Elites, no doubt the same ones that had terrorized them underground, barged through the door, firing towards them. "Move it, Cynder!" Spyro roared, running towards and leaping out of the window, stabilizing his fall and taking wing, Cynder flying beside him, heading towards the unresponsive missile. Upon reaching the Manufacturing District west of the city, they heard Malefor's roar and the powerful flapping of wings. Before they even had a chance to react, Cynder was knocked out of the sky and onto a nearby rooftop by a swipe from Malefor's paws, unconscious. Spyro dodged another swipe from the purple dragon as he took up a hover before the smaller purple dragon. Spyro dodged another barrage of elemental breath attacks by Malefor, countering with his own and eventually driving the larger dragon onto the retreat, heading towards the silo. "The hell do you think _you're _going!?" he exclaimed, tailing the behemoth. Upon reaching the mountains, Malefor slowed to a hover and rotated until he was facing Spyro, floating above the opening silo doors. Positioning himself on the rim, the small purple dragon began a deadly dance as he strafed around to dodge Malefor's attacks, countering with his own, trying to find an opening to initiate a counterattack, while also trying to figure out a way how to defeat the superior dragon.

Eventually, just as Malefor has knocked Spyro out of his hover with a blast of fire, Cynder appeared from out of nowhere, slashing up the larger dragon's wings to knock him out of flight. Unable to stay afloat, Malefor landed on the rim of the now-open silo, slashing and snapping towards Cynder, who dodged his attacks. Spyro joined into the fray, and together, the pair drove the behemoth back towards the edge of the silo's opening. They conjoined together, drilling into the massive dragon's chest and knocking him over the edge and into the pit. As he fell, he broke through one of the support stands of the missile, which collapsed onto him, pinning him to the floor of the silo. "See you in hell..." Spyro grimaced as he crashed through the window of the observation room, hitting a button to close the silo doors. Following this, he slipped out through the doors just as they slammed shut.

"You cannot stop me!" Malefor roared, and his eyes widened as he watched the countdown clock.

3...2...1...

His scream of anger was drowned out as the missile detonated, the deadly gas spilling out into the silo and the chambers beyond.

Spyro landed on the rim of the closed silo, Cynder landing beside him, both out of breath. "Let's hope he stays dead...huh?" she said to him, hugging him.

He grinned tiredly and nodded towards the silo, "I have a feeling he won't be coming back any time soon..."

There was a powerful roar, and they turned their eyes to the late afternoon skies to spy Piermont landing next to them, Alex on his back, and all three were deafened by a victorious roar from Elliot, "Oorah! The _Maxia _are retreating! All we got left are the cocksuckers trapped in the city limits, and they won't be any problem for us! Excellent work, gentlemen! Excellent work!"

"What about the Elites?" Alex asked, "And why are they even retreating in the _first _place? This can't be right...'Necro' almost won!"

"I told you, Vaughn," Elliot spat, "He's smarter than 'No-Tongue' and smarter than any other guy you've faced before. As soon as he realized that the main objective was a failure, he realized there was no point in continuing on. He's not just gonna put everything at risk for an operation that will leave little to no strategic value to him in the end...he doesn't play with Pyrrhic victories. As soon as the odds veered out of his favor, he pulled out while he was ahead."

"You sure he ain't just regroupin'?" Piermont asked, concerned.

"We'll chase 'em out to make sure they don't come back, I don't think he will though."

"So...back to my original question," Alex continued, "What about the Elites?"

"We'll nab 'em, don't worry...you guys did good. Though we're far from finished, do a little run through across the city, clean up whatever trash they may have left here."

"Roger that," Alex responded, smiling towards the two exhausted dragons, "I knew I made the right choice picking you two."

Both of them shrugged, with Cynder saying, "All in a day's work, I suppose."

Without another word, the trio took to the skies, heading back towards the smoldering city, having survived the first of what would be many attacks by the _Maxia _throughout the Second American Civil War.


	15. Chapter XIV: World at War

_**Chapter XIV**_**:**

**-''World at War''-**

**-The Necropolis, Virginia-**

**-**_**10**__** June 2010**_**-**

**-**_**2014 Hours**_**-**

"Mr. President, we need to talk, sir."

"What can I do for you, General?" the president began, turning to face 'Necro'.

"I have been pondering our situation with the Terminator Militia, and I've realized some things we need to do before we can even stand a chance against them. Their strength lies in their synchronization, and their willingness to risk all to defend themselves and each other, they are a family, a brotherhood, and they will see each other as such...this makes them stronger. Commander Vaughn, as the infamous _Son of Satan_, is also an expert strategist and tactician, and General Elliot is one of America's greatest generals. If we hope to take them down, we must remove the Tartarus Unit and put someone who can actually do their job in its place, someone who can match the militia's might. Winning a war is much more than sheer numbers and whoever has the biggest stick. You need a working strategy to secure survival and victory. Numbers are meaningless without an effective strategy, look at the Greeks during the Battle of Thermopylae."

"The Tartarus Unit is the face of the _Maxia_, General 'Necro'."

"I understand that, but those idiots are unable to take us to victory. If you want even a remote chance to take Alpha Company down, the Tartarus Unit must be removed from the equation and replaced with someone more capable."

"And who do you have in mind, General?"

He smirked, "Why don't you give me a chance to fight on the front lines, sir. I promise you, give me a shot at the front, and you'll have Alpha Company eating out of the palm of your hand by Christmas."

"Negative."

'Necro' frowned again, "You don't seem to realize the mistake you're making in keeping the Tartarus Unit active. They are too high a liability, they either need to be disbanded, or replaced. I know plenty of men who are capable of taking up the mantle and efficiently managing the responsibilities required to lead this army to victory."

"General, you seem to forget that you have purposely been removed from our records, you will not be reinstated. That was part of the deal with the Pentagon, your pride and your life for your identity. You do not exist, and it will remain so."

"With all due respect, Mr. President, I don't think you realize the full extent of the threat the Terminator Militia, especially the legendary Alpha Company, poses. You need to think like your enemy, get into their heads, and foresee their actions so that you can act accordingly. I've been watching them and their city for the past two years, I know their strengths, their weaknesses, I know everything there is to know about them, you would do well to put me on the front, not those idiots that break everything they touch. Our operation would have succeeded against New Alexandria, had not the Tartarus Unit retreated, displacing an entire brigade of armor to cover their escape. They are too high a risk, and far too unpredictable. We need to think smartly. The key to stopping Alpha Company is to _think _like Alpha Company...perhaps if we can turn one of them against their own..."

"I _do _realize the extent of their threat, and I _do _know what I'm doing, 'Necro'." Mabao interrupted, "This conversation is pointless, I know my strategy, and you will not change my mind."

"Sir, the public sees the Tartarus Unit as the fools they are...the public needs someone with a certain charisma, someone that can instill in them American pride, which is what we need if we hope to keep them aligned with us and our objective, they need to see victory, not failure, they need to see courage, not cowardice. As long as you have the Tartarus Unit spearheading the _Maxia_'s operations, soon the country's infatuation with the _Maxia _and with _you _will subside, and when it does..."

"I will no longer hear any of this nonsense, General 'Necro'."

"But, sir..."

"You are dismissed."

Lowering his head in silence, 'Necro' left Mabao's war room, and the Tartarus Unit emerged from the shadows of a corner, Xerxes groaning, "I hate that cuntlicker."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," Mabao remarked, "His heart is in the right place, but his mind is not. He was a failure as a SEAL, and was wiped from existence as punishment. He can hope all he wants to build a name for himself, but he will forever be a ghost in the eyes of the nation. I hope you two have a strategy to make up for the failure of New Alexandria."

"Aside not putting him in charge?" Observer snorted, "He's a dumbass to think it would have worked in the first place, he has never been inside the city, he don't know it's level of security."

"I don't care what you need to do, just so long as you bring me victory."

"Yes, sir!"

"You two are dismissed," and Mabao waved the duo off.

'Necro' sat at his desk within his suite in the presidential bunker beneath the Necropolis, being built upon the ruins of Washington DC, staring towards the clock on the wall, in thought.

"How am I supposed to win this war when they don't trust me, my dear Lucy?" he asked the empty room, waiting several minutes before continuing, "I see...well, we can only hope that he does soon, my dear. He's our only chance of uniting us once again..."

Silence for several moments.

"Don't worry, my friend, one way or the other, I will find a way to bring us together again...trust me," and he smiled.

Silence.

"Yes...I do agree...I also wonder whether or not we're on the right side. If President Mabao's vision is the future of the United States Armed Forces, then perhaps the Terminator Militia isn't as evil as we think."

He chuckled at an unspoken joke.

"Ah yes..." and he sobered, "You are very right...he is our only chance. I will figure out a way to bring you to me...don't worry, my dear. Please, don't worry...you will be free, soon enough...soon enough..."

-**Beneath New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**10 June 2010**_**-**

**-**_**1417 Hours**_**-**

Alex and the rest of Alpha Company were called into the makeshift war room by Elliot. "Wonder what kinda mission he's gonna send us on _this _time," Alex sighed.

"Probably some bullshit stealth one, again..." Piermont grunted.

"Maybe the _Maxia_ are planning something?" Spyro suggested, and Cynder nodded in agreement.

Upon entering the room, they found Elliot kneeling over his computer, looking at the screen. "What's up?" the Commander asked, taking a seat at the conference table, the others sitting around him.

"Good news," Elliot began, standing to his full height, "The water level is almost completely down on the surface, meaning we can finally start heading back up...upping security to ensure that this little mess doesn't happen again."

"Really?" Spyro began, "All right! About time!"

"Yeah, first thing tomorrow we're gonna start moving folks back up, so you boys and girls better get some decent rest, it's gonna be busy."

"Anything from the _Maxia_?" Alex asked.

Elliot shook his head, "'Cept that the group that attacked us is a brand new armor division called the Hermann-Reid. Dunno the significance of the two names, or who they are, only assume they have something to do with the division's commanding body or the one who put it all together. They _are _commanded by 'Necro', and apparently has been one of his pet projects for awhile now."

"Why didn't 'Necro' lead them in the assault then?" Cynder asked, "He would have probably done a lot better than the Tartarus Unit."

"From what I've heard from my moles within the _Maxia_'s ranks, Mabao and 'Necro' don't really get along very well. In fact, Mabao insists on keeping the Tartarus Unit as the face and commanding body of the _Maxia_ Regime, to fight on the front lines, while 'Necro', although the pioneer behind their battle plans and the _technical _military commander of the _Maxia_'s forces, is forced to be little more than a benchwarmer. I guess 'Necro' prefers front line duty, and has been trying to get it, but Mabao just guns him down."

"Hopefully that will work in our favor," Spyro began with a nod, "If there's tension and no synchronization between Mabao and his general, that's a very critical weak point in the _Maxia_'s structure...their Achilles' heel."

"Yeah, well good luck figuring out a way to exploit that, boy-o," Elliot grunted, "No one even knows where Mabao is operating from. He's been keeping everybody but his inner circle in the dark about where he's at, probably for good reason, too. Supposedly, there's been some construction going on around the ruins of DC, but I'm not sure, and thanks to the _Fiernes Curtain_, I haven't been able to get troops down there to investigate...maybe I can send you girls down there during the Southern March."

"Southern March?" Alex asked.

"Yeah," the general began, "Since we put up the _Curtain_, we've been shifting forces down around what we're calling the Southern Wastelands, rounding up the _Maxia_. We've been looking for an efficient way to traverse the _Curtain_, but our plated tanks, although working, like to shut down and overheat once they get through, doesn't help that they literally friggin' glow in the dark once they get through. Which means that for up to two hours after passing through, they're sittin' ducks. I'm not even gonna start shifting forces further south until we can either fix that little issue, or secure a healthy range around the _Curtain _where our shit can recover from passage with little to no danger. We've secured a couple miles south of the wall, so I think that we'll be ready for the Southern March relatively soon...I expect you guys to help."

"You still didn't say _what _the Southern March _is_," Cynder said.

Elliot grunted, "It's self-explanatory! Once we set up a safe zone to recover from passing through that damned wall of fire, we're gonna start moving our forces southward to take as much territory from the _Maxia _as possible, it'll be a line of tanks and armor that stretches across the entire width of the US. We'll advance south to take as much territory as we can, and hopefully be able to isolate the _Maxia_ from major supply points, as well as hopefully encircle them and cutting off any chance of retreat or safe zones. I'm thinking of putting Alpha on the side that marches towards the ruins of DC so you can see what the hell is going on, if anything even _is_. Anyway, it's getting late, you boys and girls better get some sleep if you hope to be ready for the big move tomorrow."

"Roger," Alex replied, standing up, the rest of Alpha following suit.

"See you in the morning, dismissed."

Cynder's eyes snapped open as she awoke from another nightmare. Ensuring that she did not wake her sleeping partner beside her, the she-dragon carefully slipped out of bed, sneaking past a sleeping Alex and slipping outside into the dimly lit hallway. With another nightmare of her time as Malefor's proxy in mind, she decided to go for a walk in an attempt to clear her head and soon found herself at the pool where she had spent a lot of her time down here mulling over her thoughts and concerns.

Surprisingly, she found herself both saddened and excited about leaving this place to go back to the surface. They had spent a lot of time down here, had been down here since the start of the war, and now they were facing the idea of leaving this place...it was almost like moving away from home. Having forgotten the nightmares that had ravaged her sleep and brought her here in the first place, Cynder found herself thinking over all the time they had spent down here. New Alexandria, and themselves, had changed drastically since they fled. Before they had come down, there was no war, New Alexandria was still the Montana Quads, she and Spyro had not gotten together...so much had changed in what seemed like such a short amount of time.

"Nightmares again?" a soft voice spoke, alerting her from her thoughts, and she turned to face Spyro, walking over to her and sitting down beside her.

She nodded before asking, "Did I wake you?"

He shook his head, "No...I was having nightmares, too..."

"About Malefor?"

He remained still and silent for a few moments before slowly shaking his head, "No..." and he turned to face her, "About losing you..." looking away, he continued, "About me leaving you behind, or killing you, when we faced off against one another, instead of saving you all those years ago."

She nuzzled him affectionately, "At least it was just a dream...right?"

He nodded, looking towards the pool water, remaining silent.

Cynder then asked, after several minutes of silence between them, "Why _did _you save me, anyway?"

He smiled sadly, "In all honesty...I don't even know. I think I told you this before...I just...I don't know..." and he sighed, "I just felt this...urge...that I _had_ to save you, and I did."

"Thank you..."

He shrugged, "I love you, Cyn."

She smiled at him, "I love you, too..." and they kissed.

Silence befell them for a few minutes before Spyro asked her, "Are you happy here? Are you happy with me?"

She nodded, "Of course...why do you ask?"

He shrugged, "I don't know...I guess it's just something I worry about sometimes..."

"Do you think you made the wrong choice? Coming here, I mean..."

He shook his head, "No, I mean...I don't really know, to be perfectly honest...I just...I can't believe where we are. Two years ago, we were living with nothing, tiny and insignificant compared to the world, and we didn't have each other...and now...here we are."

She nodded, "Yeah..." then, "Can't believe we're leaving this place...I'm glad, but it also feels like we're leaving home, you know?"

"Yeah," and he nodded, "I do...I think we've spent most of our time in the Terminator Militia down here."

"I agree...and I can't believe we're about to leave it," and silence fell between them for several minutes before Cynder tentatively asked, "Hey...can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, anything..."

"I've been thinking about us as a couple, and about our future...as a family...and I think that I've decided what I want to do..." and she turned to face him, "I want you to take me as your mate...tonight."

He was visibly stunned by the request, "R...Really?"

She nodded, "I've been thinking about it for awhile now...and I've come the conclusion that you _are _the one...that I want to be yours, and I _want _to bear your children...will you take me as a mate?"

"But...tonight? Here?"

"Yes..."

"I...I..." and he fell silent, "I don't know what to say..."

"If you're not interested...I understand. I know this is a surprise request but..."

"No, it's not that I'm not interested...because I am...I love you, very much, and if it would make you happy, then I'll do it...but I just...I don't want to hurt you."

She smiled, "You won't hurt me. If you really are worried about that, though, then you can just lay down and I'll do all the work..." and she winked at him, "It's just..." and she blushed, looking away, "I want to prove to you how much I care for you, and how thankful I am for taking me as a friend when I tried to hurt you...what better way to prove my love to you, than to give you something that I've never given anyone else before? It will be my first time..."

"It would be mine, too..."

She turned to face him again, "Then let's do this together...let's learn together..."

"What do I do...?" and he was suddenly alerted by a very peculiar smell, the likes of which he had never experienced before. It was emanating from her, of that he was certain, and he was shocked to find that the odor awoke within him some kind of hidden instinct. He was overcome with the urge to pounce upon her, but he struggled to hold this back, alarmed by the overwhelming urge to react. She stood up, walking forward before crouching forward, raising her tail to the air, exposing her rear to him. Driven by uncontrollable instinct, he walked towards her, hopping onto his rear legs and placing his forearms against her back, leaning against her for support. He watched as her genital slit swelled and opened before him, and he saw his own sheathe swell and open, the red tip of his penis poking out from within. The smell became stronger, and this fully roused him as he fell out in full, already stiff and ready for the act of which he was about to commit. He pressed the tip of his length against the black hole, and she told nodded towards him, "Do it."

With her reassurance, he finally entered her, caught off guard by the heat emanating from her, the moistness she generated oozing around him and providing lubrication, and the tightness of her inexperienced body, contracting against him in alarm and surprise by the invasion. He shifted positions to steady his mount, finding that even the slightest movement while inside of her sent a burst of pleasure spreading throughout his body, and began to thrust, craving the pleasure. As they mated, the sound of her talons sliding on the ceramic tiling, her heavy, sporadic breathing coupled with an occasional gasp and very minute grunt or groan, and a very faint, but pronounced hum emitting from her provided the only ambiance in the otherwise silent room.

As he neared the edge, he found himself thrusting harder against her, with her now issuing counter-thrusts in response, and her vaginal tract continued to massage him sporadically, unsure of what exactly to do. A song came to mind, and he began to hum beneath his breath as he neared closer and closer to the point of no return until he finally submitted, granting a few final thrusts before he felt an explosion of pleasure shoot throughout his body, with her contractions milking him for more. Once they receded, he slipped out of her, soft and slick, and collapsed to the side, out of breath as his blood-red penis slowly retreated back into its sheathe. Cynder also collapsed to the ground, crawling into his outstretched limbs and curling against him, purring contentedly. Her body was very warm to the touch, her breathing rapid and shallow, and her heart raced in her chest. He touched his forehead to hers, their tails intertwining, both dragonian signs of affection.

"Thank you..." she whispered to him, smiling, "I...I never in my life would have guessed that it would feel so...so wonderful...so magical...thank you..."

"I love you, Cyn."

"I love you, too, Spyro," and she nuzzled his chest, "That was the most wonderful feeling in the world...and I'm so glad I shared it with you."

"Me, too..." he smiled.

"I hope that this isn't the last time we can spend time together like this."

"It won't be...I will never leave you."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Early the next morning, Alex met with the rest of Alpha Company at the train platform. Given that the station was empty, with not a soul in sight, either they were very early, or Elliot had 'failed' to mention to the other occupants that they were heading back to the surface. "You guys seen Spy and Cyn?" the Commander asked, taking a seat at a bench beside Piermont and Cherub. Both he and his mate had taken on their human forms, Cherub's being such a rare sight that Alex, at first, didn't recognize her. She was of average height, skinny, wearing a long, deep blue dress, with shoulder-length blonde hair, a slightly freckled complexion, leggings, high heels, and gold earrings.

"Not a clue, man..." Piermont replied, "Then again, they're _your _fuckbuddies, not mine."

"Sorry we're late..." a voice spoke from behind them, and Alex turned to watch Spyro and Cynder walk up to them, appearing very exhausted.

"Hell were you guys?"

"Busy," Spyro replied.

"Wait a minute..." Piermont began, and the two small dragons turned to face him. He had narrowed his emerald green eyes, the only part of his body that _hadn't _changed with his human form, and was observing them closely. Suddenly, he grinned, "You two fucked each other. Holy crap, man! They had sex!"

"How the hell can you tell?" Alex asked.

"You forget bud, I see in auras, remember? She's gotta little bit of his mixed with hers, and he's got a little bit of hers mixed with his. If they didn't actually _have _sex, they had _some_ kinda sexual contact at least."

"Well...it would explain why they were gone..." Alex sighed.

"And why they look so tired," Piermont chuckled, "Shit...Spearow got lucky before ol' _Ali _even did! Giggity God damn, man! You should feel bad."

Alex sighed, "Really?"

"Yeah, really! Don't got high expectations for you, man, but I would have _at_ _least _figured you'd get some pussy before the purple faggot did!" and he collapsed into a bout of wild laughter, "Oh my God! This is priceless!"

"You know what?" Spyro began in a bitter tone.

"What?" Piermont began, still laughing.

"Fuck you."

"So you _ARE _gay! Thanks for admitting it!" and he laughed even harder.

Spyro sighed, and Cynder, shaking her head, replied, "Don't worry about it, Spyro."

"Meanwhile, I'm happy for you," Alex replied, "Glad you two finally managed to get together."

"And now he's jelly cause Spearow took the nigger bitch away from him!" and Piermont submitted to yet another fit of giggles.

Cynder grinned in response, "Pierre, if I wanted to, I could still show him one hell of a night, I'm not beyond a little fun with a second mate."

"_DAYUM_! Bitch looks like a whore!"

"Better be careful, hon," Cherub began, "Else I may just let her castrate you."

"But if she does that, then you won't have my little soldier no more, and I _know _how upset you'll be."

She grinned, "I'll just go with Alex then, I can make a man out of him."

This silenced Piermont, whose grin abruptly vanished, "Fuck you," he finally spat.

Cherub's grin only widened, "You won't, ever again, if you don't settle down."

He was once more driven silent, only this time, he looked down in defeat, refusing to say anything.

"Anyway..." Cynder began, "Yes, Spyro and I...we finally decided to mate...though I was hoping that the whole world wouldn't end up finding out about us, at least so soon anyway."

"You can't hide much from Piermont," Alex sighed, "Martaanean dragons see in auras, so he can tell when two people...have a fling...because each person's aura is a unique shade and color, if he sees two auras mingled with one another, it means they either outright had sex, or otherwise did some other kind of sexual act with one another."

"Kinky," Cherub replied with a chuckle.

"What? You can see it, too," Alex replied, grinning, "You're a Martaanean dragon, too aren't you?"

"Your point?"

Here, the first group of civilians began to pile into the station, led by a number of soldiers. "Looks like Elliot announced the big move."

Both Spyro and Cynder nodded, "Yeah, that's what woke _us _up."

"Where were you guys?"

"We...well last night, after we kinda...yeah," Spyro replied, scratching the back of his head, "We kinda fell asleep afterward."

"We were at that pool..." Cynder nodded, shrugging, "We were too tired after, so we just fell asleep there, hoping to get up and slip back inside our room before you guys woke up...sorry."

"Don't worry about it..."

Two days after moving back to New Alexandria, Alex and the rest of Alpha Company were called by Elliot to meet at a command post a few miles north of the _Fiernes Curtain_. Upon arriving above the Southern Wastelands, Alex's jaw dropped at the state of the environment. The area around New Alexandria, what had once been rolling green foothills, bright forests, and pastureland, had since been converted into a baked, desert-like hellhole thrust in semi-permanent night by the heat and acrid smoke of the _Fiernes Curtain_, and it looked like other places in such close proximity to the _Curtain _had fared no better. Where a massive Terminator camp had been set up appeared to have been a national park, once upon a time. Now, the trees were charred husks, skeletal in appearance, like the hands of some giant skeleton trying to break through the cracked, baked, ashen earth, with the grass having dried up and withered away. The lakes that hadn't been dried up were ashen black, and the maroon skies above seemed to be thrust in eternal night, as the smoke coming from the dragonfire was so thick, that not a single ray of sunlight could penetrate the cover. Ash drifted from the heavens like a light snow, and it seemed to have been snowing ash for quite some time, as the ground, what wasn't hard, baked earth, was caked in it at least two inches down.

"Here I was thinking we had it worse..." Piermont remarked, landing before transforming into his human form. He looked around, wearing a disgusted grimace, and extending a hand, watched as ashen flakes gathered in his palm.

"I'm sure the mountains to our east and west ends keep out much of the ash," Cynder replied, why there's not as much beyond our north and south borders is what I don't understand...it just looks like a desert up there...down here..."

"It's very still, too..." Spyro sighed, "Even where we are, you can at least hear birds..." and he kicked the corpse of some wild animal, now a skeleton half-buried in ash, "Down here...it's too quiet."

"New Alexandria isn't that close to the _Curtain_, we're at the farthest edge of its AOE," Alex replied, "We're up close and personal here..."

Not even the wind blew here, the only sound was the roaring of the nearby dragonfire.

"Congratulations, Alex," Piermont grimaced, "You succeeded in destroying the _fucking _world. Hope you're proud of yourself. Wonder when we're gonna have the EPA at our doorstep."

"Fuck you," he replied, walking down a trail towards the camp.

Upon entering the perimeter, they were greeted with a less-than-pleasant sight. It appeared that it wasn't just a military camp...civilian refugees were also living among the ranks, and Alex was horrified by their appearance. They were dirty, starved, and looked ill, almost every person around them seemed to be sick, coughing violently. "What the hell..." Piermont began, wearing a disgusted frown, "Why does it look like we entered fuckin' Auschwitz?"

Alex replied by painfully nudging his dragon's side.

"Welcome to war, gentlemen..." a voice spoke behind them and they turned around to face a tall, thin man, with black hair, dark green eyes, and battle scarred approach them, thrusting out a hand, "Name's Cameron Schumaker."

"What happened here?" Alex asked him, a captain by the insignia.

"That damned curtain..." and he led them through the camp, "When war was declared, the stock market took a nosedive, since the NYSE is made of a bunch of very picky sons of bitches. Then the _Curtain_ went up, economy completely tanked due to the collapse of interstate trade and travel, business basically stalemated. A lotta people lost their jobs, and we had to import more than ever to keep food going. Farms were destroyed by the heat generating off that thing, so food became very scarce. Eventually, government couldn't afford to keep going, a lot of organizations were defunded, including disaster relief, to support the war effort and keep the country alive. Hell, feds are doing everything they can just to keep China from cashing us out. Food, water, and electricity are so scarce that they're rationed to almost ridiculous proportions, and the state of the country is worse than it was even during the Great Depression. The world was so reliant on the US that once we went down under, they followed suit, so the whole world is suffering. Everybody can feel the war's presence, not just its participants. Without the _Curtain_, I don't think things would have gotten this bad...at least we would have still had interstate trade to keep some form of economy going, and even if it did get this bad, it would be so subtle that we'd be able to adapt."

Alex fell silent, feeling guilty. He was the one that had ordered the _Fiernes Curtain_, but he didn't expect it to have such a negative effect on those that weren't fighting.

"What about these people?" Cynder asked, "What happened to them?"

He shrugged, "Refugeed by the _Curtain_, pretty every town in the area is uninhabitable under these conditions, they've been displaced by the _Maxia_'s clashes with our defenses south of here, we brought them through to get them out of the fire. Those that _did _have homes, left their families to find supplies just to survive...we found them near-death."

"New Alexandria isn't _this_ bad..." Spyro sighed.

"New Alexandria is mostly self-sustaining," Alex explained, "We purposely made it that way when we colonized the Quads."

"War is hell, Commander," he replied, finally arriving at the command tent, where they found Elliot already engaged with a group of grunts in front of a map of the US, covered in different colored lines drawn in marker.

"I fucked up..." he began, and Elliot without looking up smirked, "Yes, yes you did..." and he finally turned his eyes to face the Commander, his bulldog face graven and exhausted, thick, lit cigar smoldering between his lips. He plucked the cigar from his mouth, blowing smoke into the air before replacing it, crouching over the map once again, "Welcome to the end of the friggin' world."

"I never thought this would happen..." Alex sighed, shaking his head, "I mean...I thought the _Curtain _would protect us."

"I had my suspicions, but I wasn't sure. Personally, I wasn't very for the move anyway, good in theory, not necessarily in practice. I was afraid this would happen. Since we put it up, we've changed the entire climate of central North America, both north and south of our borders. Everything's either dead or dying."

"Should we take it down?"

Elliot smirked, "No point, damage is done. Environmentalists are projecting it'll take hundreds if not thousands of years for nature to undo the damage the _Curtain _has done since its establishment, even if we _do _take it down. Don't think we can do any more damage than what we've done, we might as well keep it up, the _Maxia _have yet to figure out an efficient way to break through it. Good for them, the longer we keep 'em out, the better. Most of the war's being fought in this hellhole, which is a helluva lot better than turning the entire US into a fucking crater."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be...you're protecting yourself and the rest of your allies...nature can take a few hits. She always wins in the end, and there ain't nothin' you can do to stop it. Do whatever the hell you want to the world, and in the end, nature will always reclaim itself. It's a slow process, but it will happen, God made sure that's the way the world worked, He made sure that nothin' this corruptible, impure, prideful, bloodthirsty species did to the planet would be permanent. Worse that can happen is we have a mini-mass extinction. Eventually, species will evolve and adapt."

"Anyway, so what's going on? What's the plan?"

"Have a seat..." and he, without looking up, waved to an empty fold-up chair. Alex walked over to it, but didn't sit down, awaiting Elliot's orders, "I'm going to send Alpha Company with Foxtrot One to investigate the ruins of DC. I hear Mabao's building something over there, and I want to know what..."

As he listed off the many teams involved in the Southern March and their objectives, Alpha Company listened intently, all feeling nervous but also excited for the upcoming battle. Nothing seemed to be more satisfying than some actual frontline work against the _Maxia_, especially when they had nothing to lose, the sole intention of this operation being to carve through the _Maxia _towards their capital. Alex personally was very excited for the opportunity to hit the _Maxia _where it counted, desiring sweet revenge against them for the all-too-recent assault on New Alexandria.

Alex and Piermont mounted the commanding tank of their column, the rest of Alpha Company dispersing within the remaining columns that comprised their unit. "All right gentlemen," Schumaker began over the radio, "Let's move. Keep all hands and feet inside the tank, make sure the hatches are all sealed up tight, and DO NOT touch any steel parts, it's about to get a little steamy."

Alex asked, "How are we sure that the heat won't weld the moving parts...or the hatches...to the hull?"

The tank commander responded, "The alloy we've plated the tanks with gets hot enough to glow, but doesn't get hot enough to melt. Just so long as you don't force everything shut or slam anything around once we get through, you won't have a problem. Things we need to be most careful about are the treads...but we've gone great lengths to ensure that there is as little resistance and that the ground as level on either side of the _Curtain _as possible to avoid putting undue stress on the treads."

"Great...just what we need to give the _Maxia_," Piermont scowled, "A glowing fuckin' beacon tellin' 'em EXACTLY where we are...and we'll be sittin' ducks while we wait for these sons of bitches to cool down enough since we ain't gonna be able to fire while it's still hot."

"Do that, and you risk the heat of the barrel setting off the gunpowder early..."

"No shit, why do you think I said 'we ain't gonna be able to fire while it's still hot'?"

"'Sides, you shouldn't have to worry. We've secured a partial DMZ on both sides of the _Curtain_, and American forces that are still loyal or neutral, as far and few between as they are, go to great lengths to maintain and monitor that boundary."

"Ain't moving military personnel through a DMZ illegal?" Alex asked.

"Minor details, besides, we haven't heard complaints yet."

"Y'know, why don't we just tunnel underneath the _Curtain_?" Spyro asked, "It would make things a hell of a lot easier on us."

"Tried that...but the land the _Curtain_ burns on is mostly molten upwards of two hundred feet down and the ground is unstable enough as it is...it's too dangerous to tunnel down."

"Teleport through?" Cynder asked.

"Warp drives are expensive, even then, they don't tend to work very well on grounded vehicles...actually, the _one _time we hooked one up to a tank, it emerged on the other end half-buried in the ground. So it's not worth it," then, "Okay, we're approaching the _Curtain_, expect some turbulence..."

"If the ground is molten, I sure as hell hope we don't fall through..." Alex began, worried.

"That's why we only cross at points where we can straddle the line, so that the entire weight of the machine isn't actually on the molten rock."

Then Schumaker called in again, "Last call folks, make sure that all accessories are removed before we cross through. Don't want your M240s melting down on you, or the belts going off."

Around him, Alex watched as the tank crew casually removed everything attached to the tank's exterior, moving it inside, sealing the main hatch before closing another hatch beneath that. "What is that?"

"What is what?" the tank commander asked.

"Two doors?"

"Roger, we've modified the tanks to fill the space between the two doors with liquid nitrogen. Keeps us from burning ourselves. Between the plates and the actual armor, there's a very narrow space that we have liquid nitrogen flowing through at all times to keep things cool, so we don't burn the crap out of ourselves moving about, also helps the tank to cool down faster after passage. Sometimes it fails, or the heat gets through, which is why they warn us not to touch anything until we're actually through."

"Interesting."

As they edged closer and closer to the _Fiernes Curtain_, unsure of where exactly it was, Alex felt nervous, and turning to face his human-form mount, he could tell that Piermont felt similar. The others in the tank didn't seem to mind, but the Commander figured they were probably used to it by now, since it wasn't uncommon for the militia to move forces back and forth through the _Curtain_. Finally, he was nearly thrown out of his seat by a violent thud, accompanied by a frightening grinding sound, a muffled sizzling, and violent shakes throughout the interior. "Hold on guys," their tank commander began, addressing Alex and Piermont specifically, "We're crossing through."

"Is it always so violent?"

"Yep..." he replied.

The temperature also increased significantly. Beginning to sweat beneath the weight of all of his gear, and the extraordinary temperatures, Alex checked the built-in temperature gauge, reading that the interior was approximately 140 degrees Fahrenheit and steadily increasing. "Keep those ice packs on you," their commander warned, and the Commander, remembering his, placed it against his head. It was a Kevlar face mask, filled with the same kind of non-toxic refrigerant used in ice packs. When the violent trembles finally ceased, marking that they had passed through the _Curtain_, Alex checked the temperature gauge again. Within the space of the sixty seconds, they had spent traversing the firewall, it had gone from an average of one hundred to almost two hundred degrees Fahrenheit. They could still hear the sizzling, loud as ever, and the tank abruptly cut out once reaching the other side. For several minutes, they remained in place, unable to move, watching as the temperature gauge slowly ticked down to normal ranges. Even after it reached a steady one hundred degrees, they remained in place, unmoving until, after another half an hour, there was a loud beep that rang through the cabin, and Alex watched as _another _temperature gauge flicked on to life, reading 110 degrees Fahrenheit.

"All right," their tank commander began, standing up, "We're cool, let's get everything put back up."

The tank's occupants quickly piled out of the hot interior of the tank and outside, relieved when the arid, desert heat outside seemed cold in comparison to that inside of the machine. The smell of hot metal was very strong in the air, and Alex watched, in awe, as more and more tanks punched through the _Curtain _in a flurry of droplets, looking like a metal beast busting through a lava-fall, which the _Fiernes Curtain_, towering miles high into the air, heavily resembled, all glowing a brilliant red-orange and steaming heavily. Schumaker approached him, "We're gonna wait until everyone else cools down before we start advancing. I think these are the last of our particular line. So, take a little break, grab a drink, eat a ration, have a smoke, take a whiz, stretch your legs, beat one out, whatever, it'll be about half an hour before we're ready to advance."

As the man walked away, Piermont chuckled, standing behind Alex, "Shit, man. I'm sorry, but that's pretty fuckin' cool."

"What is?"

"Just watch!" and he clapped Alex on the back, pointed towards the _Curtain _as two more glowing tanks punched through the wall of dragonfire.

Alex shrugged, "Yeah, you got a point, it _is _kinda cool."

"_Kinda _cool? Dude, that's fuckin' awesome."

Alex watched, bemused, as one of the tank crews pulled out a cooler from inside the machine, placing a frying pan onto the still-slightly-glowing machine, pulling a carton of eggs out of the cooler and cracking them into the pan, proceeding to make omelets. "DUDE!" Piermont laughed, "Shit, man! Let's see if we can convince them to fry us up some chow."

"First things first, gotta piss," and the Commander walked behind the tank.

"Same..." and Piermont followed.

Their bellies full, their bladders empty, and ready to go, the tank crews rejoined their machines, and at the command of Schumaker, leading the first of several lines to partake in the Southern March, the machines all roared to life, rolling forward over the tamped earth, splitting off into all directions. As they moved forward through the Southern Wastelands, Alex was once more stunned by how apocalyptic the place looked this close in proximity to the _Curtain_. Their Hornets had usually warped them somewhere near their destination in their previous excursions, but now, for once, Alex had a hands-on look at the full extent of the damage his defensive wall of dragonfire had done upon the world, both intentionally and unintentionally. The wastes were littered with the corpses of destroyed armor, artillery, and even aircraft, both friendly and _Maxian_. Towns were shelled into unrecognizable husks, and everything was coated in a thick layer of ash. The condition of the wastelands _south _of the _Curtain_ were much worse than the Burned Lands around the American/Canadian border, in fact, they were even _worse _than the Southern Wastelands _north _of the _Fiernes Curtain_, on the Terminator side of the wall.

"Pretty ugly, huh?" their tank commander began.

"What happened here?" Alex asked, he was laying across the tank, his arm thrown around the barrel of the cannon, with the tank commander situated in the cupola at the top of the turret.

"The _Maxia _cannot get through the _Curtain _effectively, so the brunt of the war and the majority of our clashes with them occur down here. Think of it this way, it's thanks to us that the _Maxia _haven't gotten through to the north, let alone New Alexandria, with the exception of the Hermann-Reid."

"The Hermann-Reid?"

He nodded, "Yeah, the Hermann-Reid 1st Armoured Division, spelled armored with a 'u', commanded by 'Necro'-we call them H-RAD-the biggest goddamn force of armor and infantry I've seen in my entire career, and I had a lengthy stint in the US Army before I came here, I was in 'Old Ironsides', the 1st Armored Division. H-RAD was so damn big they punched through our defenses easily, razed the hell out of everything they could that belonged to us between the _Curtain _and New Alexandria. At least 'Necro' spared the civies and neutral towns."

"So they are the ones who attacked us..." Alex frowned.

"Yep."

Suddenly, they heard the sound of shutters slamming open, and they were instantly under the assault of enemy HMG fire. Alex scurried back towards the tank, the tank commander diving down into it while Alex grabbed control of the M240 and began to fire towards _Maxian _forces that were swarming onto the streets to intercept them. With Alex taking out anything on ground level, leaving the gunner to take down anything using the shelled-out buildings for cover, they pressed forward, never slowing their momentum, diving deeper into _Maxian _territory. Within minutes, the _Maxia _began to retreat, pulling back deeper into the city, with Alex laying relentlessly into them as they continued their advance. Once they left the ruined town, finding themselves in the wastelands once more, around in seemed to have once been farm fields, they found more _Maxia_, briefly engaging them before pulling back.

"Hell they running from?" Alex chuckled.

"Doubt they were expecting us to cut through their forces in town. Since we punched through, cue the classic 'oh shit' moment," the gunner responded, "Plus, these guys look to be armed with small-arms fire, nothing threatening, ain't worth our ammunition. Feel free to clean 'em up if you want."

Alex grinned, "Roger that," and he fired upon them in short bursts with his M240.

Within an hour, they were near the ruins of Washington DC. _Maxian _presence was much thicker down here, but they were only encountering smaller groups with small-arms weapons and rifles, probably little more than patrols. It wasn't until they reached the are where DC once was that Alex felt his heart sink...

A massive wall, rivaling that of New Alexandria, towered over them, appearing almost brand new, "Uh...what's going on here? I thought Elliot wasted everything here..."

"He did..." the tank commander responded in a worried tone.

_Maxian _forces patrolled along the top of the wall, armed with heavy machine guns and Javelins, and they rebuilt ruins of DC was situated in the heart of a flat area, with no clear cover.

"Oh crap..." Alex began, eyes widening, "Pull back! Pull back now!"

Two Javelin missiles launched towards them, and Alex barely had time to react as he abandoned ship, the rest of the crew barely making it out before the machine was blown to pieces. "What the hell is going on!? There's not supposed to be something here!" Piermont growled, as the tank crew ran back towards the nearest cover available, a low hill that the road they had been following had cut through, "We leveled this fuckin' place!" they dove into cover, just as another missile zoomed past their heads.

"This is _no bueno._.." Piermont gulped, breathing heavily, "The _fuck _is going on? What _is _that!?"

"Looks like the _Maxia _have been busy..." the tank commander replied, "Captain, we have a problem..."

"What's wrong?" Schumaker replied.

Alex took this opportunity to contact Elliot, "Elliot, I've got bad news. Looks like the _Maxia _have been busy."

"What's going on, Vaughn?" Elliot replied.

"There's a fucking city with New Alexandria-level security where DC used to be."

Silence before, "Say what now?"

"You heard me right."

"God dammit..." he sighed, "Looks like we found Mabao."

"They blew our tanks away," Alex growled, "We're stuck here."

"Can Piermont get you outta there?"

"He can maybe get my team and I...but the rest of our column is getting blown to pieces, and he can't get us all..."

"Sending a Hornet your way."

"NO! They have Javelins!"

"Well...then get your asses somewhere safe, pull back and flag a spot for extraction, we'll look into this city and figured out what to do with it at a later time."

Alex turned to face the rest of his crew, looking out over the hill to see the surviving members of the rest of the column struggle to make it towards where they were huddled. Once all the survivors had arrived, Alex addressed the entire group, "Elliot wants us to pull back. He's sending a Hornet to airlift us back to the _Curtain_."

"What about the city?" the command tank's commander spat.

"He said he'll look into it and worry about it at a different time, right now, he wants us to get somewhere safe for extraction."

"What's your plan?"

"Head back the way we came...and pray to God they don't decide to follow us."

"I wonder if this is why they kept pulling back...they wanted us to get fucked over by that city's defenses."

"Wouldn't surprise me," Piermont growled, "Mabao's a dick that way, same with 'Necro'."

As they were about to make a break down the road, a rocket whizzed past them, coming from the area they had arrived from and crashing into the ramparts of the heavily fortified city, decimating one of the anti-tank positions and temporarily bringing the _Maxia_ to move farther down the line. Alex looked for whoever had fired, then smiled in relief as Spyro and Cynder's tank rolled into view, leading their column, which had the majority of Alpha's members, behind them. The hatch of the command tank was thrown open and Spyro poked his head out, waving towards them, "C'mon! Let's go before they get back!"

Alex led the remnant of his column towards the new arrivals, clambering on the hulls just as the support tanks pulled back. Although the anti-tank crew had not returned yet, they found themselves under sniper fire from somewhere in or around the city. "Keep your heads down!" Alex growled as Spyro and Cynder's command tank turned around and began moving forward down the road, heading back to the _Curtain_. "Faster!" he called, hammering on the turret, "We need to move fas..." and he was interrupted as a bullet ripped through his shoulder, sending him plummeting off the tank and onto the road.

"_ALEX!_" Piermont roared, hopping off the machine and running to the fallen Commander, who was clutching the wound, bleeding profusely.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Alex spat, "Pierre! It's not healing!"

"What?" and he did a double take, "The hell you mean it's not healing."

"I mean exactly that!" he hissed, "It's not healing!"

The human-form dragon threw Alex over his shoulder and sprinted back towards Spyro and Cynder's tank, continuing without realizing that two of its passengers had fallen, even while the men mounted upon it hammered at the machine, trying to get the message across, but to no avail. Finally, the tank commander of Alex's crew tossed open the hatch and disappeared inside, and a few seconds later, the tank came to a halt. Piermont, now out of breath, continued sprinting, despite his exhaustion, finally reaching the column and mounting the command tank, poking his head into the still-open hatch and calling, "We're on! Keep moving! We need to get Alex back to camp pronto!"

"What happened?" Cynder asked, climbing out of the machine and tending to Alex, Spyro clambering out soon after.

"Sniper got me," Alex growled, "It's not...it's not healing..."

Cynder tried to heal the injury, but when she found that the sparks of healing danced briefly across the injury before fizzling out, making no change, she became worried. Climbing into the tank and grabbing a towel, she returned, folding it and pressing it tightly against Alex's shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. "We'll be back at camp in half an hour," Spyro began, "You guys think you'll be good until then?"

"I'll have to be," Alex replied, wincing.

Upon returning to the camp, Elliot was soon upon them, helping them lift Alex to the medical tent, which had recently been set up in the shadow of the _Curtain_, just south of it into _Maxian _territory, right on the edge of the legally defined DMZ. While Spyro and Cynder followed Elliot's group, hanging back, a shrill female cry rang throughout the air, causing Spyro to stiffen.

"Spyro!? Is that _you_!?"

"Oh no..." he began, turning on his heels, his heart sinking as he saw a young, pink-scaled Realm dragoness running up to him, with a yellow belly, amethyst eyes to match the purple dragon's own, wearing a red, heart-shaped pendant around her neck and a toothy grin at the site of the gloomy purple dragon.

"Ember..." Cynder sighed, "Oh great..."

"Dude, where've you been?" another voice spoke, and Spyro turned around to find a small yellow dragonfly speeding up to him. It flew circles around him, taking him from all angles, "It's been forever, you just wandered off in the middle of the night...we thought you were dead!"

"Then we heard that you were seen in some city fighting Malefor and we came here to see you!" Ember replied, nearly prancing around him.

"Sparx...Ember..." he began, "Uh...now isn't the best time..."

"I _told _you that girl was bad news!" Sparx chided, pointing towards Cynder, who only shook her head.

"We were talking to some people in that city and they said that you came here, and when we came here and saw you were gone we talked to this big guy who said that you were fighting a battle and then we asked him when you came here and he said that you came here trying to save that girl Cynder and then..."

"Ember, please...tone it down," Spyro sighed, the motormouthed girl giving him a headache.

"You came here after Cynder, and you didn't even _tell _us?" Sparx said, offended, "What the heck, man? I thought we were best friends!"

"It was a race against time...if I would have told you guys then the _Maxia _would have gotten away with her, and I would have never been able to find her again."

"Who's the _Maxia_?" the dragonfly asked, dumbfounded.

"They're the ones we're fighting," Cynder snorted, a small puff of flame shooting from her nostrils.

"Well...still...couldn't you have come to see us after she was safe?"

Spyro sighed, "No, because I knew you and the other Guardians would try to convince me to stay...I'm not going back."

"But there's nothing here for you, dude! All your friends and family are back in the Swamp! Although if the witch dragon wants to stay then by all means by my guest...I would actually prefer it that way."

Spyro frowned, "I'm not going home...and I'm not leaving Cynder."

"I don't get you, dude. You're always trying to protect her! What kinda spell does she have over you? What's keeping you here?"

"My friends," Spyro replied, irritated.

"Well, they can come with us! Just so long as _she_ stays," and he pointed to Cynder again.

"I'm not leaving him," Cynder replied firmly.

"Why not? I mean, this place is like Heaven for you, am I right? You can kill, scare, and torture all you feel like. Plus...you won't be around me!"

"No," the dragoness replied.

"Why not?"

"Because she's my mate!" Spyro growled, stunning Sparx and bringing Ember to near tears.

"Wh...what did you just say?" Sparx replied, rubbing his eyes, before chuckling, "See, I thought you said that _she _was _your_ mate..."

Both Spyro and Cynder frowned.

"I heard wrong...right?"

Spyro and Cynder responded by kissing each other, causing Sparx's jaw to drop and Ember to break down into tears and fly away. Sparx remained hovering in place, jaw dropped, unable to respond. Finally, he said, "You...you didn't."

"We did," Cynder replied, smiling mischievously.

"I...I can't believe this..." and he flew in circles around, whispering again beneath his breath, "I can't believe this..." before violently rotating and flying in Spyro's face, shouting in dramatic fashion, "How _could _you man! I thought we were friends! First you save her! Then...then you run away from home to chase her down without _telling _anybody! Then when I _finally _catch up to you, you sit here and tell me that YOU TWO ARE MATES!?"

"Your little brother's all grown up, Sparx," Cynder replied, stroking Spyro's face with her tailblade before wrapping her tail around his neck and pulling his face to hers for another kiss.

"Fine..." and he pulled back, hovering in the air above and in front of them, "Fine. If that's the way you want it to be...then fine..." and he flew away in the same general direction as Ember.

"Sparx! Wait! Don't tell me that you're gonna leave just because of that?" Spyro replied, hurt.

The dragonfly paused in place, zipping back to them, "Why? You left us...you left _me_...because of your _girlfriend_!" he said, mocking the word, "I'm just returning the favor."

Offended, Spyro frowned, "Fine then...you go home...but I'm not leaving here...and I'm not leaving _her_...because I love her. She means the world to me. If you can't be happy because I found love, then maybe it's better off if we stay going our separate ways," and he glanced towards the medic tent, "Now if you excuse me...I have a friend...a _real _friend, that needs help. Someone who doesn't care who I'm with, that is happy because I'm happy, and that won't judge me or my choices..." and he stormed away, heading towards the tent. Cynder took one final look at the dragonfly, shaking her head before turning around and following her mate.

"FINE THEN!" Sparx called after them, "I GUESS YOU'RE NOT MY FRIEND ANYMORE! I'LL JUST GO FIND SOME _NEW _FRIENDS! FRIENDS WHO ACTUALLY _CARE _ABOUT ME! FRIENDS WHO _WON'T _ENDANGER THE LIVES OF PEOPLE THEY CARE ABOUT!" and with an exasperated breath, he flew away once again.

"Is he okay?" Cynder asked, entering the tent, her mate beside her.

Alex smirked, flinching with a grunt as Crash ripped the bullet from his shoulder, finally healing the injury and wrapping it in gauze. He held it up to the light, examining it before dropping it into a test tube and handing it to Elliot. With a sigh, the bandicoot began, "I have an idea or two what happened...but I hope to God almighty that I'm wrong..."

"What?" Spyro asked.

"If the _Maxia _can create a mutation serum that they can give to their forces, then surely they can create an _anti_-mutation poison to counteract or neutralize it, that they can then either make _with_ their bullets, or lace their bullets with. I _hope _I'm wrong, but the injury contained trace amounts of a very peculiar chemical, one I've never seen before, and seemed to be eating away at Alex's mutated blood cells sorta like antibodies. I'm shipping it to Bleu and Fox for further analysis."

"Am I good to go now?" Alex asked, testing his arm's maneuverability.

"Not yet," Crash replied, "I think you should go back to New Alexandria, stay out of combat and we'll keep an eye on you, make sure everything's fine..." then he turned to face Elliot, "General, do you mind if I come with?"

Elliot nodded, "You all can head on back, you boys did a damn fine job. I'll send a spec ops team in there to investigate that city, see what's going on. Boys did a good job."

Alpha Company, who had gathered around Alex, all nodded in response.

"Anyway," the general began, popping his neck muscles, "My line's about ready to move...I'll see you all back in New Alexandria."

"See you, Elliot," they called after him, and with a nod, the general exited the tent.


	16. Chapter XV: The Edge of Chaos

_**Chapter XV**_**:**

**-''The Edge of Chaos''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**10 April 2011**_**-**

**-**_**1218 Hours**_**-**

Alex awoke, checking his clock and giving a brief yell of alarm once he realized that it was already noon. Climbing out of bed, he threw open the curtains of his windows, checking the thermometer mounted on the wall: 74° Fahrenheit, not bad. Quickly getting dressed, he emerged from his quarters and into the central living room. Nobody was there, and he noticed a note laying on the stained-oak coffee table. Picking it up and reading it, he smiled as he returned to his quarters and changed his clothes.

"Oi! Spearow, watch out!" Piermont sped across the deck of the balcony swimming pool, making a running jump as he pulled a cannon ball that splashed water onto the unsuspecting dragon. Spyro, annoyed, glared at Piermont, in his human form, and shook himself dry.

"Go to hell," the dragon replied bitterly.

"Aw, c'mon now, Spearow!" Piermont laughed, "Be a good sport."

The purple dragon shook his head and collapsed beside his mate, sunbathing on the wooden deck. Piermont climbed out, unleashing another cannon ball to which Cynder casually side-stepped away from a wave of water that splashed Spyro once again.

"Dammit, Pierre! Stop that!"

"Wow, somebody's angry."

"Shut up."

"No, you shut up!"

"Here's a better plan, how about both of you shut up," Alex said, emerging onto the deck in his swimming clothes.

"Hey!" Piermont called from the water, "The Commander awaketh! C'mon in, the water's fine, just...beware of Spyro...sorry...Spearow. He's in one of his moods."

"Only because Pierre doesn't know how to be respectful to others."

"Oh b'aww, I play nicely with everyone. It's just you that I have problems with."

"Oh really now? What have I done?"

"Besides whining about how I'm splashing you with water. If you don't like it, go back inside."

Spyro took a menacing step towards Piermont, and Alex shoved him back, holding him. "Don't, Spyro, it's not worth it. Save your energy for the battlefield."

"Battlefield? What battlefield? We haven't seen a battle or a mission in two months!"

"And you are complaining...why?"

"Good point, never mind."

Rudolph then appeared, and in a hesitant voice, said, "Playtime's over folks, Elliot called us."

"Dammit, Spyro! You jinxed us!" Piermont complained.

"Pierre," Alex began, "Just shut up."

Alpha Company arrived, single-file, into the empty conference room, seating themselves in their customary spots. Soon after everyone had seated, General Elliot entered the room, holding a thick dossier folder under his arm. "Uh oh..." Piermont whispered to his rider, "This can't be good."

"Quiet, Pierre! Listen."

"Afternoon, gentlemen," Elliot said, taking his seat at the head of the table, "Hope you enjoyed your little vacation, we have some work to do."

"Damn," Piermont said, "Just make this quick, Elliot."

"Patience, Piermont."

"Ignore him, Elliot," Alex began, glaring at his dragon, "Pierre's just having one of his days."

"Anyways, this next mission is...unique...to say the least."

"Really? How?" the Commander asked.

"It hits a little closer to home for you."

"Where?"

"The college town of Champaign, Illinois."

"Really?"

"Aye."

"What's going on?"

"_Maxia_, that's what. A couple of days ago, a whole platoon of _Maxia_ armor strolled right into town, took over it in little more than half an hour. So, we want you to go and liberate it."

"Sounds simple enough."

"I wouldn't say so, there's more to it than that I'm afraid."

"Namely?"

"Well...for one, Lord "Necro" himself has paid a visit to the town, and he's enforced the city, big time."

"Okay?"

"The other issue, is that few of our forces are available to aide you. We have battles all across the southern sector of the Curtain, and many of our troops are caught up there."

"So what do we do then? Stroll in and take the city by ourselves?"

"Not necessarily. We have a potential alliance as well; a contact is willing to forge an alliance with us, as well as assimilate a healthy number of troops into the militia."

"Where do we meet him, and when?"

"Tomorrow morning, at the National Guard Armory in Connorsville."

"When do we move out?"

"In a couple of hours."

"Transportation?"

"Your personal plane."

"Oh, cool."

"Ayup, Tails is piloting, of course."

"Who all is involved?"

"All of Alpha Company. Anyways, you all are dismissed. Pack your bags, I'll meet you all at Anderson Airfield in an hour and a half."

_**-Connorsville, Illinois-**_

_**-05 April 2011-**_

_**-0401 Hours-**_

The plane signaled to land several miles out from the armory. Being so early in the morning, the reply was immediate, and they were clear for landing. Once the plane was parked in its borrowed hangar, Tails walked through, awakening the sleeping troops. Upon emerging from the depths and into the dimly-lit armory, Alex was greeted by an older-looking man, deeply battle-scarred, with a salt-and-pepper goatee, and fierce, brown eyes. "Well hello," the man said in a thick, Russian accent.

"You our contact?" Alex asked the man, shaking his hand.

"Sergeant Viktor Reznov, at your service."

"Nice, you know our situation?"

"Of course, but your CO, a General Elliot, wants to have a briefing anyway."

Alex laughed, "Elliot isn't my CO, I'm his, actually."

Reznov seemed surprised, "You are quite young to hold such a high rank."

"Yeah...I get that a lot."

"I can only imagine."

"My life story is a different tale for a different day though. Right now, let's attend this briefing, Elliot gets a little...frustrated...when we're late."

The briefing lasted only a few minutes, and was little more than a repeat of what Alpha Company had already been told back in New Alexandria. No sooner had they left the conference room than were they escorted out back to where Reznov's unit relaxed. There were a good fifty tanks, and Alex felt relief that they still had a decent amount of backup. Along with Reznov's unit, Elliot had managed to scrounge up two or three battalions to aide them in what should have been a simple liberation mission. However, as was customary for the Terminator Militia, things never went as planned, and trouble followed them wherever they went.

"URA! Haha! Amazing!" Piermont cried, "This is the funniest damn thing I've ever experienced."

The entire army rolled up Interstate 74, unusually busy for this early in the morning, and everyone found it humorous as the citizens traveling between Connorsville and Champaign gawked at the large group of soldiers. "Yeah, but I can't help but to feel bad for 'em," Alex replied. "They probably think we're terrorists or something."

"Or they know very well who we are," Cheet said, "You know, with "Necro" spitting out all that crap about us."

"Either way, it's still funny as hell seeing their reaction."

"You're a sad, strange, little man," Spyro said, "And you have my pity."

"No you don't, don't lie."

"Don't start," Cynder warned, "And Spyro, see if you can talk Crash into handing us a few blankets, it's cold as hell out here."

"Oh b'aww," Alex replied, "Stop complaining, it isn't terribly bad out here..."

Cynder stared at him.

"Okay, I admit, it's a little chilly out here," the Commander knocked on the steel turret, "Oi, Crash, mind handing us some blankets out here?"

The Bandicoot's muffled reply was almost instantaneous, "Nope."

"C'mon! Why not?"

"We don't get blankets, you don't get blankets, simple as that."

"It can't be that cold in there, can it?"

"Alex, there is no heating in here, of course it's cold."

"So..." Piermont interrupted, "No blankets then?"

"Nope, besides, we're almost there."

About two or three miles out, Reznov called for the tanks to stop and pull off of the interstate. They did, and the Russian's command tank led them off the road and into the forest. Once off the road, he parked the tanks and climbed out. "What's the big idea?" Spyro asked, "This isn't Champaign!"

"No, it isn't, but we need to be discreet, the _Maxia_ have the city well-armed. Now, bring me your sniper, and follow me. We have quite a hike."

Alex stepped forward, unstrapping his sniper rifle as he loaded and cocked the weapon, "You called?"

"Come, follow me," Reznov began up a narrow trail, and Alex, accompanied by Piermont, Spyro, and Cynder, followed, ordering the others to stay behind until told otherwise.

An hour later, Reznov suddenly slowed, holding up his hand and signaling for them to remain silent. He crouched down, revealing binoculars, and crept further along the trail. They were now on a ledge overlooking one of the main entrances to town, and a checkpoint blocked the road below. The Russian pressed a finger to his lips and pointing to the gates before slowly laying prone. "Do you see them?" he whispered.

Scanning the immediate area with the scope of his sniper rifle, Alex nodded, "Yeah."

"How many snipers?"

"Five."

"Precisely."

"What do we do?"

"We need to...acquire...some discreet transportation. Each of the roads leading in an out of town have checkpoints."

"No blasting our way in?"

Reznov shook his head, "No, we don't have enough reinforcements, we can't afford to engage unnecessary conflicts."

"Yet you're expecting us to retake the city?"

"Yes."

"Without engaging?"

"Not overly so, no."

"Explain?"

"You're a soldier, figure it out."

"What do I do here?"

"I thought it was obvious."

"Eliminate the snipers?"

"Aye. Do you have a silencer attachment?"

"Of course."

"Is it attached?"

"Aye."

"Then take out those snipers, and I will arrange some transportation."

Reznov stood and jogged down the trail, leaving Alex and the rest of the High Command on the ledge.

"Where are the snipers?" Spyro asked, "I can't see 'em."

"One on the water tower, two on the billboards, one on the building rooftop to your right, and one on the third-story window to your left."

"Ah," Spyro replied, "I see 'em. Fire away."

Without another word, Alex fired one shot, killing one of the billboard snipers. "Four..." he whispered to himself.

Reznov returned to the tanks, calling Cheet, Rudolph, and Crash over to him. They followed, and the Russian led them back to I74. "Keep your head down, hide in the trees and in the ditch," he whispered.

"What do we do?"

"Wait for my signal."

"What are you going to do?"

"Arrange for some transportation into town."

Reznov stood and walked into the middle of the road, forcing an approaching semi to slam on its brakes. The semi stopped, Reznov walked over to the driver's side, and the window rolled down as the driver asked, "Are you okay, sir?"

"Yes," Reznov replied, then, revealing a silenced P2K pistol and aiming it at the driver, said, "Mind if you give us a ride?"

Another shot, and Alex whispered, "Three..."

"Something's not right about that Reznov character," Spyro said with a sigh, "I dunno, I don't trust

him."

"Neither do I, but then again, I don't trust anybody."

"Yeah, well, there's just something...I dunno...odd...about him."

"Like what?" 

"I don't know."

"Like 'kill you while you sleep' odd or like 'senile old grandpa' odd?"

"I don't know! There's just something...off...about him."

"Well, he is a former veteran of the Red Army. Wait! Hold that thought!" another shot and,

"Two...Okay, continue."

"I'm not so sure we can trust him...I mean...what if he leads us right into a trap?"

"Why would he?"

"Well I don't know! It's not like there is a five million dollar bounty over our heads or anything."

"Good point."

"So, what do you think?"

"I think, we should trust him for now. If he makes a move out of line, we'll catch him for it. If he makes a move to betray us, we will kill him and any who stand in our way."

"So S.O.P?"

"Correct, S.O.P."

"Listen, man! I...I don't want any trouble!" the driver said, climbing out of the vehicle.

"Neither do we...no, no, no! Stay in the truck, stay in the truck! I just need you to open the back so we can climb in."

"What...what do you want? Money? I...I only have, like, 50 bucks on me, man. I don't get paid till tomorrow..."

"No, I just want you to escort us into Champaign, and DON'T tell the guards about us."

"Guards? What guards?"

"Obviously, you don't know that there is a dangerous army that laid siege to the city a few days ago."

"N...No. I'm up from North Carolina, I...I haven't seen the news for a couple o' weeks."

"Enough talking, just open the back."

"I...I need to climb out to do that..."

"Fine then, climb out. But make a run for it, and I'm not afraid to put a bullet in your back."

"One...and adios! Haha! Snipers neutralized, now what?"

"I dunno, Alex, call Reznov," Spyro replied.

Alex buzzed him.

"Yes?" the Russian replied.

"Snipers neutralized, what now?"

"Go back to camp, I'll meet you there."

"Yes, sir. Alex out."

Alpha Company boarded the back of the vehicle, and the driver, now holding several hundred dollars, closed the door. "Leave it open, slightly," Reznov commanded. "Make it appear more as if you hit a bump that jostled the door, not leaving breathing space for stowaways, and do NOT act suspicious."

The semi moved forward, and Reznov signed for everyone to remain quiet. Within minutes, the vehicle stopped, and they could hear the driver talking to the checkpoint guards. After several, heart-pounding minutes, the truck began moving forward, and the driver whispered, "Okay, they let me past, I think-"

Suddenly, they heard the loud crack of a gunshot, and Reznov screamed, "Everybody! Out!"

The sound of MG bullets striking and deflecting off the vehicle alarmed them as the Russian broke the lock, forcing the door open, and he hopped out, rolling into cover. Mere moments after Alpha Company had left the vehicle, a mortar struck the semi dead-on, and a loud, deafening explosion blew away the morning silence. "Crap!" Piermont shouted, "We're in trouble! Brace yourselves!"

_**-Eight Hours Later-**_

The sun was abruptly concealed as storm clouds arrived, and a fine rain began to sprinkle down onto the world. The soldiers involved in the Battle of Champaign was scattered around, fighting off the _Maxia_ as they struggled to fight towards the center of town, and Town Hall. Alex and his squadron, advancing towards Town Square, buzzed Spyro.

The dragon, relieving a pinned-down squad near the outskirts of town answered, "Spyro here."

"Spyro, rendezvous with my squad in Town Square...how far are you out?"

"Eh...about twenty, thirty minutes, what about you?"

"Same, listen, meet me there, if we can establish a footing there, we can establish a command post."

"Yes, sir, I'm on my way."

"Good, see you soon, Alex out."

"Squad! On me!" Spyro commanded, and his unit appeared. "Listen, Alex wants us to meet him in Town Square. C'mon, let's go."

As Spyro led his troops through the war-torn streets, he spotted Reznov and his command tank, firing upon a barrier in the middle of the main thoroughfare.

"Oi!" the dragon called.

Reznov answered, "Ah, Spyro, good to see you, my friend! Enjoying the battle?"

"Sure...I guess. Listen, can you escort us down to Town Square?"

"Well, we are heading that way...I can take you close, but you will have to walk the last two or three

miles on your own, is that okay?"

"That's fine."

"Well then, mount up."

Spyro climbed onto the command tank, and his squad climbed onto the others.

"Here," Reznov handed him a deployable machine gun, "Make yourself useful. Defend our flank."

Spyro nodded, "Can do."

"Excellent."

No sooner had Spyro's squad mounted up than the tanks moved out, trudging up the street as the turret brought down any machine gun nests that had established themselves in the surrounding buildings, and the machine gun brought down the rest. Meanwhile, Spyro tasked himself with bringing down any enemies who had evaded the front-facing guns, bringing down several _Maxia_ planes that had lowered to attack the column as well. Suddenly, the sound of mortars filled the air, and a nearby explosion threw Spyro off the tank and to the ground. Distantly, the dazed dragon could hear Reznov screaming his name. As he recovered, he saw a _Maxia_ soldier, wielding a dagger, charge at him. Acting on reflex, Spyro grabbed the man's wrist, broke it, then grabbed the back of the man's head, smashing it into the hull of the destroyed tank. Pressing his assailant's head against his shoulder, Spyro felt for the dropped dagger, and, picking it up, slit the man's throat before throwing the body aside and into a puddle of rainwater. Watching as red tendrils crawled through the water, Reznov thrust out his hand to the dragon and helped him up. "Damn," the Russian replied, gazing at Spyro's fresh kill, "The Commander trained you well. Are you alright?"

Spyro, lost for words, nodded.

"Excellent...now, this is as far as I can take you, from here on you're on your own. The center of town is 1.5 kilometers north of here. Just follow this road, it'll take you right to your destination."

"Thank you," Spyro managed.

"Don't mention it," Reznov replied, "Take care of yourself, Commander."

"You too, Reznov."

"Good luck, and God speed," to his troops, Reznov commanded, "C'mon! Back to the tanks! Let's move out."

Spyro saw them off before he, tailed by his squad, jogged up the broken streets. It was obvious the Commander's unit had already been through here, as there were very little enemies here, but a number of fresh corpses. There were a few stragglers who Spyro took out with ease, and soon, the fountain dotting the center of town was in full view. As the purple dragon and his unit emerged from the road and into Town Square, a cold voice said, "Nice of you to finally show up."

Startled, Spyro's first impulse was to attack the source of the voice. However, upon turning, he saw Alex standing there, leaning casually against his parked command tank, picking beneath his fingernails with the tip of his dagger. "I was caught up," Spyro replied, "Nice to see you still in good health."

Alex chuckled, "These damned _Maxia_ boys can't get rid of me that easy."

"What did you call me up for?"

"I figured you'd want to hang out with me for a little bit."

Someone in Alex's squad screamed, "Artillery!" and the group ducked as a mortar round exploded nearby, making a crater in the middle of the brick-floored square.

"Jesus Christ!" Alex hissed, "We need to take out those damned guns before they do some damage. We're not safe here," to the driver of his command tank, Alex commanded, "Start 'er up, we need to pull out of here!"

As the Commander and Spyro mounted, another mortar shell struck the command tank, exploding into a ball of fire. By the impact of the blast, both Spyro and Alex were tossed off, but neither was harmed, and one of Spyro's troops ran up to the downed dragon, helping him up. "Jesus!" the man cried, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine...Alex?"

Alex, groaning, stood up, "Oh yeah, just fine," grimacing at the command tank, which was now burning as brightly as a campfire, he said, "Goddammit!"

"C'mon," Spyro said, "We're on foot now, I guess."

Out of the eerie silence, a sharp whistle blew, and there was the sound of wooden shutters in every window of every surrounding building slamming open. Immediately, the sound of HMG fire filled the air, and bullets ricocheted off of the tanks.

"Jesus!" Alex screamed, "Ambush! Find cover!"

"The fountain!" Spyro cried.

"Advance to the fountain! Take cover!" Alex commanded, "Keep your heads down!"

As they sprinted to the fountain, taking cover, the medic from Alex's squad turned to his CO, "Jesus Christ! We're sitting ducks out here!"

"Where's Spyro?" peering outside the fountain, Alex saw Spyro, covering behind the destroyed command tank, as mortars exploded all around. "Spyro!" Alex screamed over the roar of battle, "Get your ass over here!"

Hesitantly, the purple dragon stepped out and sprinted towards the fountain. No sooner had he left cover than a bullet tore through his left, rear leg in a spray of blood, and the dragon cried out as he tumbled, landing with limbs splayed, exposed.

"SPYRO!" Alex screamed, "Dammit! Jenkins!"

The medic turned to face him again, "Yes, Commander?"

"Cover my goddamn back! I need to get Spyro!"

"It's too risky!"

"Dammit, Jenkins! That's an order! Never leave a man behind! Cover my ass!"

Hesitantly, Jenkins replied, "Yes, sir. Standing up, he cried out, "Covering fire!"

The gunners diverted, Alex stepped out and sped to Spyro's side. The dragon was panting heavily, stuck in the grasp of a panic attack, and the Commander tried to soothe him as he tried to think of a way to transport him to safety. Finally, Alex said, "Sorry Spyro, but this may be a bit uncomfortable."

The Commander slid his hand against the dragon's belly, between his limbs, and lifted him onto his neck. "Keep your head down, Spyro, or we'll both lose 'em," as he made his way back to the fountain, he watched as Jenkins' head shot back, a cloud of blood shooting from the back of his head as he went down instantly. Immediately, the MG fire was back on them. "Crap!" Alex hissed, he threw himself down behind a destroyed car, trying to keep all of his body parts, as well as those of his companion, behind cover. He fumbled for his radio and sent out an urgent call, "Gold to Eagle's Nest! Gold to Eagle's Nest! Requesting air strike around Town Square, we're pinned down here, and we have wounded, over!"

"We hear you loud and clear, Gold, but we're heading back to base to reload. We'll be there as quickly as possible, just hold your position, over."

"Hold my position? Hold my position!? Have you lost your freaking minds!? We'll be torn apart by their mortars and MG fire if we have to stay here any longer! We're sitting ducks!"

"I'm sorry, Gold, but there is nothing we can do at this point."

"Dammit!"

Moments later, aircraft appeared over the horizon and began bombing the region. Amazed, and relieved, Alex stepped out of cover, Spyro still on his neck, and cheered, "Haha! That was quick!"

However, the bombers didn't stop, and they weren't attacking the buildings...they were attacking the square.

"Oh no..."

He made a sprint towards the fountain, diving as the _Maxia_ planes flew overhead, bombing the entire area.

Piermont's tank battalion pressed forward, and during the temporary break in waves, he took this as an opportunity to take a break. As he searched for a lighter, a sudden, crippling pain tore through him, bringing him to his knees. Once the pain passed, he heard Cheet suddenly say, "What the hell was that!?"

"I...I don't know, Cheet...whatever it was, though, it can't be good."

Unstrapping his radio, Piermont called out, "Alpha Company, report."

One by one, his call was answered as each member confirmed their positions...all except for two. "Alex, report."

Silence.

"Alex, come in, over."

Silence.

"Dammit Alex, this isn't funny, come in, over."

Still silence.

Cheet then spoke up, "Try Spyro."

"Spyro, this is Piermont, come in, over."

Silence as well.

"Spyro, speak now, this is serious, over."

Radio silence.

"Goddammit. Cynder, can you hear me, over?"

"I can hear you, over."

"Where's your mate?"

"I don't know, haven't seen him lately, over."

"Can you feel him?"

"No...I'm kinda worried."

Piermont and Cheet looked out as they watched the distant bombers. "Hey, Piermont?" Cheet asked.

"Yeah?"

"Did those seem awfully close to Town Square to you?"

"Yes..."

"Wasn't Alex supposed to rendezvous with Spyro there?"

"Yes..."

Then, suddenly realizing what Cheet was implying, Piermont buzzed their air support.

"Eagle's Nest here, go ahead Silver."

"Did you just bomb over Town Square?"

"Ah, no we didn't, Silver. Our planes had to return to base to refuel and resupply. We were headed there, per Gold's request, on our return."

"Oh no..." Piermont moaned, "Cynder?"

"Yes, Piermont?"

"How close are you to Town Square?"

"Um...about...five, ten miles East, why?"

"Get there as soon as possible, I'm worried about the commanders."

"On our way, God I hope they're alright."

"Me too, Cynder, me too. Reznov?"

"Yes?" the Russian replied.

"How far are you from Town Square?"

"Two or three miles West."

"Get there ASAP, that's an order."

"Yes, sir."

"Crash, you there buddy?"

"O'course. We're four miles North, and we're heading there now."

"Good, I'll meet you there."

Pain...intense...unimaginable pain...

Alex slowly awoke, his heart pounding heavily in his ears. His whole body was sore, hurt, it burned and throbbed painfully, and his vision was a blur. The world was colorless...but the grays, whites, and reds, were blindingly sharp. As his vision cleared, he saw the carnage that lay before him. Hundreds of bodies, all of his and Spyro's companions, strewn everywhere. The fountain, streets, and buildings were in ruins, the ground was a rich combination of blood, mud, and rainwater. Gunshots filled his ears, deafening to his sensitive hearing. Distantly, he could see silhouettes walking beyond the fountain, pausing every few moments before continuing...Survivors...they were shooting survivors.

Anyone left living was executed, point-blank...and Alex knew that his only hope of survival was to play dead. Two men, directly in front of him, writhed and moaned in agony. One of the silhouetted men, appearing to wield an AK47, stepped into the fountain, firing an entire clip into each of the injured men. Blood and gore splattered onto the Commander's face, but he remained still, he had to. The man walked around, kicking over corpses, ensuring the dead were just that. Eventually he left, and once Alex was sure the executioners had gone, he began to claw through the mud, his voice, a harsh whisper, calling out, "Spyro..."

Nothing.

"Spyro...where...where are you?"

His dream...the dreams he had had for so many years...this was it...this was it coming true...

"Spyro! Where...where are you?"

And then...he saw him...

The dragon was across the fountain, against the wall. His back was to the Commander, and he was laying in a puddle of blood. He was still, unmoving, and Alex, unable to sense anything, didn't know if he was alive or dead. A sudden pain ripped through his body, as if he was being ripped apart, limb from limb. He moaned in agony, rolling onto his back, as black circles began at the outer edges of his vision, growing closer and closer to meeting in the center...an imminent sign of unconsciousness. He struggle to stay conscious, he knew he could die if he passed out...but he couldn't help it...no matter how hard he tried.

"Spyro..."

Then, darkness.

"Move faster!" Cynder commanded, as her tank column neared the walls surrounding Town Square. A plane overhead crashed into a building, and it fell, blocking the streets. Annoyed at the inconvenience, and the blockage, she swore.

"General?" the tank driver asked, "What do we do?"

"Plow through the damned thing. That's what we're gonna do."

Now upon the outer walls, Cynder commanded the gunner to fire. A dull explosion, a wave of rolling smoke, and when it all cleared, the tank rolled into the ruined square, parking. Everyone dismounted, and her jaw dropped as she looked around the scene around her. "Guys..." she began into her radio, her voice sounding small and insignificant, "Get over here...now..."

"What?" Piermont answered, "What do you see? Cynder? Cynder!?"

But she was lost for words.

Reznov broke through the opposite wall and dismounted, equally stunned by the carnage. Piermont was the last to arrive, and as he saw the gruesome sight, the sea of corpses, his face adopted a stricken look as the group searched the ruins for their leaders.

The Russian then called out, "Guys, come here."

They did, and found who they were looking for...Alex was laying in the fountain, cold, stiff, no registered pulse, or at least one they could feel. The entire right side of his body was horribly burned, blackened, bloody flesh, all melted. Spyro fared no better, the right side of his body was also gruesomely burned, and his scale and flesh melted and bubbled.

Cynder gagged and had to leave, unable to hold her stomach.

Reznov, a look of deep sadness in his old, haggard, wrinkled face, said, "So much like Stalingrad..." Piermont was grief-stricken, driven silent, dazed by what had happened, all of Alpha Company was. "Come on," the old Russian began, "Let's finish this battle, and avenge this massacre.

As the groups moved out, one person emerged from one of the ruined buildings, skirting the dead bodies as he approached the fallen commanders. Grabbing Spyro by the horn, and Alex by the collar of his shirt, he dragged the pair away, out of the fountain, and out of the square.

**-_05 April 2011_-**

**-**_**1612 Hours**_-

"Press forward!" Reznov commanded into the megaphone, "Avenge the commanders! Claim our victory! URA!"

"URA!" the enthusiastic crowd returned, "URA! URA! URRRRAAAAA!"

"Blow them away to hell and beyond!"

"URA!"

The army pressed forward, scaling the hill where the city hall stood, damaged by innumerable attacks. They stormed the steps and stormed through the entrance, fighting through the first room, the library. Using bookshelves for cover, they killed the snipers on the loft ahead. Once cleared, they left the room into the next, a long corridor leading to a balcony that surrounded a massive meeting hall. Piermont sniped the machine gunners on the stage and the explosive crews on either side. Eliminating the flamethrowers on the floor, they dashed through a set of oak, double doors, down several flights of stairs, and to ground level. Fighting through leftover troops, they made their way to the stage, approaching a blocked set of stained oak, double doors. "Kill them!" Reznov commanded, "Break through and kill them!" Several troops pressed their bodies against the doors. After several minutes, the tug-of-war game ended as the blocking _Maxia_ fled and the militia stormed through. One soldier collapsed, and Piermont pressed the barrel of his Frinesi 12 gauge against the man's head, blowing him away. They sped upstairs, arriving in a massive room with checkerboard, black-and-white marble floors, and a thirty-foot-tall gilded statue. Eliminating the MG crews, the ran up the steps to the right of the statue, against the wall, and emerged on the roof. Up here, the _Maxia_ had cut down the American flag, hanging their own in its place at the far edge of the domed roof.

"We are almost there! Finish them!" Reznov cheered.

"URA!"

They fought forward, fighting ruthlessly through the last defense. The _Maxia_ up here could not retreat,

there was nowhere left to run, they were finished. Around them, air raids bombed the building, causing the dome to start collapsing, and one massive girder fell, cutting a massive pit in the dead center of the roof, a hole leading directly to the meeting hall, one hundred feet down.

"Take no prisoners!" the Russian urged on, sniping at the snipers camped out on the ledge of the dome.

The bearer of the American and the Terminator flags crawled along before a bullet tore through

his head, and he dropped the flags.

"Cynder!" Reznov called out, "Retrieve the flags!"

Retreating back to the entrance of the roof, Cynder picked up the flags and pushed forward, across the roof, onto the balcony, and towards the _Maxia_ flag. One soldier stood up then, and, firing a single round, Cynder went down. All restraint Piermont had left snapped, and in his fury, he jumped down, brutally slaying the soldier with his dual-wield swords before hacking the corpse to pieces. Reznov appeared next, helping the dragoness up, and as they cut down the _Maxia_'s flag, raising their own, Piermont broke from his trance and ran onto the rails, grabbing the flag pole and leaning out over the two-hundred foot drop. "DAMN YOU ALL! DAMN YOU ALL!" he screeched, "NONE OF YOU PATHETIC WORMS WILL LIVE! YOU WILL ALL DIE! GOD DAMN YOU ALL! GOD DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!"

Upon uttering the final word, he began to glow and levitate as the sky grew red, and meteors, appearing out of nowhere, began to pummel and blast away the city as he unleashed his fury. The glow diminishing, he fell forward, unconscious, and Reznov caught him, pulling him back onto the roof. "The whole damn place is collapsing!" Cynder cried out, "We need to get out of here!"

Reznov led them across the collapsing roof, and heading down the set of stairs connecting the rooftop with the third floor. As they sped down them, the massive golden statue suddenly broke and began to fall towards them. "Look out!" Cynder cried...but it was too late. The statue fell, destroying a large, fifty-foot expanse of the steps before them, burying several of their troops with it. Trapped on the stairs, they watched as the marble steps began to crumble away, falling into the fires burning where the statue had brought them down.

Backing up, Cynder ran forward, full speed, and leaped the gap. The others followed suit, landing clumsily as they recovered and continued their sprint. From the room with the statue, they ran onto the stage of the meeting hall. A nearby explosion took out the wall to their right, and they could see the meteors fall as well as plumes of dust, smoke, and fire that seemed to be stationery. Around them, the ceiling collapsed, girders and glass smashing onto the marble tiles. Speeding across the ground floor of the meeting hall, they went through a set of oak double doors and sprinted up the steps onto the balcony. As they ran across it to the door leading to the library, it collapsed from beneath their feet. Fires burned everywhere, the smell of burning fabric filled the air as the fine, red carpet fed the hungry flames.

In the library, many of the bookshelves had toppled, and hundreds of volumes made the room like that of the interior of a bonfire. The ceiling above them exploded and a massive arch came crashing down, blocking the entrance. "We're trapped!" Cynder cried out.

"I know another way!" Reznov called out, and he led them through another set of doors to the left of the entrance. They dashed up the steps, finding themselves on the second floor balcony. "Jump!" the Russian cried, "Roll to break your fall!"

They did, leaping over the banister and landing onto the concrete. No sooner had they all abandoned the city hall than the building collapsed in on itself, filling the air with smoke and dust. Quickly, they still ran, returning to their vehicles and speeding off towards the town limits.

"Move!" Cynder commanded to Crash as he started the jeep and sped off, tailing the other vehicles.

"How is he?" Crash asked, trying desperately to remain calm.

"He's fine...unconscious, but fine," she replied, checking Piermont's vitals.

Around them, the skies were a brilliant orange, as if filled with fire. Each impact of one of the burning meteors emitted a glowing white shock wave. The continuous earthquake toppled everything that resisted the meteors. Suddenly, one of the buildings, a massive, four-floor complex, fell down, blocking the street and cutting Cynder's group off from the others.

"The building! Drive through the building!" the dragoness cried out.

Backing up, Crash drove the vehicle through the window of a building to their left. Driving through the indoor car lot of a car dealership, they snaked around the the vehicles, ramping off the floor and through the window opposite of their entrance. Because the street naturally was on a hill, the window on this side of the dealership was a good ten feet off street level. The jeep crashed onto the street, bouncing once as it continued up the hill, following their companions. Thinking they were in the clear as the town limits were dead ahead, Crash picked up speed...but then, an explosion from below destroyed the street, sending pieces of concrete flying as the town limits sunk over fifty feet below the city. Unable to stop in time, the jeep drove off the ledge, and after several moments of sheer terror that seemed to be going in slow motion, the jeep hit the road. It bounced ten feet, several times, each bounce lower than the last as it upturned, spilling its passengers.

The upside-down jeep, rolling uncontrollably, finally came to a rest, wheels still spinning, and Crash and Cynder, along with the unconscious Piermont, lay sprawled on the road. Dazed, the two still-conscious passengers stood, and carrying Piermont, they stumbled towards safety, the city collapsing behind them. When they arrived with the rest of their army, they fell to the ground, watching, unmoving as the meteor shower finished, the earthquake ended, the skies returned to normal color, and the city, in ruins, settled into the massive crater.

Reznov wandered over to Cynder, struck silent with her depression, "Are you okay?" he asked.

"No...Spyro..."

"He is avenged."

"But that won't bring him back."

"Cynder..." Cheet began, chasing after her as she walked away.

"Leave me alone, Cheet..." Cynder replied sadly, "I...I need to be alone for awhile."

In a gust of wind, Cynder took to the skies, disappearing over the horizon...but not towards New Alexandria.

"Cynder!" Cheet called out, and soon the rest of Alpha Company was trying to contact her. However, she had severed the line.

"She'll be back," Reznov sighed, "She'll be back."

"Spyro and Alex..."

"What about them?"

"They...they can't be gone! They've escaped death so many times before..."

"You saw as much as I did."

"But-"

"Everybody's luck runs out at some point in time," without another word, the army, having reigned victorious, began to make the long journey home.


	17. Chapter XVI: Fallout

_**Chapter XVI**_**:**

**-''Fallout''-**

**-Champaign, Illinois-**

**-**_**11 April 2011**_**-**

**-**_**2041 Hours**_**-**

"_Alex...please...help me...don't leave me alone...I don't want to die...where are you? Where are you..."_

The Commander's eyes shot open as his body roared in agony. He felt stiff, feverish, and he forced himself to sit up against a wall for support. There was the crackle of a fire, and he looked around his surroundings, trying to figure out where he was, alarmed to find that, somehow, he had ended up from the bombed out fountain in Champaign, Illinois' town square to a ruined building, what seemed to have been a study at one point in time, likely belonging to the University of Illinois. In the hearth directly across from him, a roaring fire burned on, feeding off logs, and the Commander groaned as he closed his eyes.

"You are awake at last..." a thickly Russian-accented voice began, and Alex opened his eyes again to see a young man approach him, taking a seat beside him, "I was beginning to worry."

The man was very young, probably mid twenties at the most, with friendly brown eyes and a dark goatee, dressed in a _Maxian _uniform.

Alex instantly reached for his firearm, but not before the man stopped him, assuring him, "I am a friend!"

"Then why are you wearing an enemy uniform?" he growled, voice hoarse. His right eyes was blurred out and tinted red, deeply affecting his depth perception, and his whole body, especially the right side, ached and throbbed in a dull, stiff, almost feverish heat.

"I had to get you two out of there before the _Maxia _discovered and killed you...I saved your life."

"Two of us?" and Alex looked around, eyes widening as he spied Spyro laying, still unconscious, on the floor to the left of him. The dragon had been critically burned from the attack, and with his second-in-command's back facing him, Alex grimaced as he saw the true extent of what had occurred. The whole right side of Spyro's body was badly burned, his scale and flesh charred to the point his features were nearly unrecognizable. His body was crusted in dried blood and caked mud. Alex feared that he looked no better, "What happened? Who are you?"

The young man grinned, "You two were caught in a _Maxian _bombing, it's a miracle you survived..." then he leaned forward, "My name is Dimitri, Dimitri Petrenko, I am in Viktor Reznov's squad."

"My comrades..."

"As far as I know," Petrenko began, "They are safe and sound...the battle is over."

"Did we win?" Alex said, managing a smile.

He nodded, "They're in the process of pulling out now. I've remained connected to their communications, and it seems that General 'Necro' has ordered them to retreat to Rally Point Epsilon, we've been trying to track them, but to no avail, as of yet anyway. There are still soldiers within the city, although I do believe that a few of your men, though not from your unit, stayed back to cleanup what's left of the _Maxia_."

Alex stood up uneasily, taking one step forward before collapsing to the ground once more, "I...I need to get back to New Alexandria."

"You will...but not in this state," and Petrenko handed him a mirror. Alex was horrified by what he saw, the entire right side of his face was burned beyond recognition, the skin having melted away to reveal muscle and, in some places, bone. Large portions of his nose were charred black, and his whole face was covered in dried blood and mud. His uniform was in tatters, and although his chest didn't seem to have taken _too _much damage, his right arm looked only slightly better than his face. If there was one thing he knew, the burns would eventually heal, even the scars would vanish, thanks to the mutation serum, but it was hard telling when that would be the case. However, he didn't know how much nerve damage was dealt, if any, and he was unsure if _that _could be ultimately fixed and healed in time. This was by far the most serious injury he had ever sustained, even worse than when he had been caught in the AOE of an explosion while vacationing at a ranch in the desert seemingly so long ago.

"Christ..." he sighed, "We can't stay here! We need to get back to New Alexandria! The others...they probably think we're dead..."

"No, it is far too dangerous to evacuate now, we should wait until the _Maxia _thin out first."

"We _need _to get back home!" Alex spat, "Is there _anything _we can do?"

Petrenko fell silent for a few moments thinking, "Perhaps we can regroup with one of the friendly units still left in the city...although we would have to search for them. Perhaps they can either guide us out of the city and to a safe area where you can be lifted back to your capital, or they may have a way to get back home themselves. The problem still remains, however, that you will have to navigate through the _Maxian _remnant first. Although the battle is won and the city has been reclaimed, there are still pockets of resistance scattered about, you will have to get through these if you hope to find someone that can help you escape. It is much too dangerous to go alone, especially in your current state."

Alex smirked, soon dissipating after the pain of his burned face hit him like a brick wall, "I've been in worse scenarios...well...maybe not _this _bad, but I've definitely been in situations like this before."

With this said, the Commander walked over to Spyro, crouching beside him and gently petting the dragon, who groaned beneath his touch. The purple dragon finally picked himself up, standing on unsteady legs as he looked around, "Wh...where am I?"

"We're safe..." Alex replied.

"What happened?"

"You were caught in a _Maxian _bombing run," Petrenko informed him, standing beside Alex, "Your friend is right, you two are safe now."

Spyro suddenly shot up, looking around, terrified, "Cynder! Where is she?"

"Alpha Company is safely back home," Alex replied, "We're still in Champaign..."

"Oh God..." and he began to panic, "Are the _Maxia _gone?"

Petrenko shook his head, "The battle is won, and the _Maxia are _pulling out, but right now, there are still pockets of resistance dotting the city...if you want to get out of here, you will need to navigate through these and get to the city outskirts, where you can be safely extracted. We won't be able to do this alone...I advise we find one of our friendly units still in the city, cleaning up the _Maxian _remnant."

They waited until the sun had sank beneath the horizon at last before they slipped out of their shelter, Petrenko leading them through the ruined city, now nearly unrecognizable. Although Alex didn't expect the damage to be lasting, given that Champaign housed the U of I, one of the biggest colleges in the state, he was still astounded by how much damage the _Maxia _had done...and he at first found it hard to believe that 'Necro', who was so particular about destroying friendly or neutral assets, would allow such massive destruction...unless _he _wasn't the one who ordered the assault.

Remembering the face of the _Maxia_, the Tartarus Unit, who, unlike 'Necro', couldn't care less about the costs just so long as they could do as much damage to the Terminator Militia as possible, Alex wondered if the siege had been one of their spontaneous operations, similar to attacking a high school on a whim...but hadn't Reznov said that 'Necro' had personally visited the city? And hadn't Petrenko just said that 'Necro' was the one who had ordered the retreat? Or was the general simply cleaning up another one of the Tartarus Unit's messes?

Regardless, Alex didn't care either way, all he desired was to get home to be with his companions, and he imagine that Spyro felt similarly.

Petrenko led them throughout the crater-laden streets, taking great care to lead them around patrols and avoid them if he could. Thankfully, they were within a sort of no-man's land, where there were no critical strategic locations to hold, and most of what they encountered were columns of _Maxian _armor and infantry on the retreat, weary from the recently concluded battle and thus inattentive to what occurred around them. Eventually, they reached one of the few areas of conflict still occurring, and after helping friendly forces eliminate the _Maxian _resistance, Alex, Spyro, and Petrenko all slid down into the crater that was being used as cover.

"Good to see we're not the only ones still around," one of the men, the apparent leader, a sergeant, began.

Alex asked, "Are there any friendly command posts around here?"

"Commander Vaughn!?" the man exclaimed in surprise, "It's an honor to meet you...what happened?"

"They need to get back to New Alexandria," Petrenko interrupted, "Where are our command posts? Are any still active?"

"There's one a few blocks down the street..." the sergeant responded, "We were on our way there, as a matter of fact, when these bastards ambushed us."

"Is it secure?" Alex asked.

The sergeant nodded, "Last I checked they were still moving our guys out...course that was several hours ago, so who knows anymore."

"It'll have to do..." then Petrenko turned to face the Commander, "All right, let's keep moving...Sergeant, you're on point."

"Yes, sir."

They finally reached the command post a little under an hour later, finding that they were in the process of breaking everything down and pulling out. "When's the next Hornet leave?" Petrenko asked.

"Ten minutes...why?" one of the guards asked.

"We have precious cargo here that needs to get to New Alexandria, ASAP."

"Commander Vaughn? Commander Spyro?" and the guard's eyes widened, "What happened to you, too!?"

"It doesn't matter," Petrenko snapped, "We need to get them outta here."

The guard nodded vigorously, stepping aside, "Go on ahead..."

As they made their way across the tarmac to the nearest group of Hornets, they heard a frantic voice call out, "_MAXIA_! INCOMING!"

"Shit!" Petrenko spat, turning to face where they had come from. _Maxian _tanks began to crawl up the road, heading towards the compound. "GO!" the man spat, shoving Alex and Spyro towards the Hornets, "Get moving! I'll cover you!" and he sprinted towards the entrance to the compound.

The two commanders broke into a swift sprint approaching the awaiting Hornets and forcing themselves aboard. Alex called out towards the grunts moving things into the machine, "Oi! Hurry it up! We need to get outta here!"

Fishing out his AK47, almost out of ammunition and relieving the safety in the event that the _Maxian _forces managed to break into the compound, he waited patiently as the grunts finished filling the machine, climbing into it, the pilot being the last to enter. As the Hornet took to the skies, Alex watched as _Maxian _tanks blasted through the gates and into the compound, abruptly slaughtering everyone that had tried to hold them off. He looked away, sighing and saying nothing as the city began to shrink in the distance.


	18. Chapter XVII: Halo

_**Chapter XVII**_**:**

**-''Halo''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**15 May 2011**_**-**

**-**_**0101 Hours**_**-**

"_Spyro...Spyro...where are you?"_

Alex's eyes snapped open and he sat up in bed, groaning in pain. Once again, the memories of the massacre at the fountain tormented his sleep, and he wished that the pleasant dreams with the girl would return...he hadn't heard from her in at least a month, ever since they took Champaign back from the _Maxia_. If his dreams weren't being terrorized by the massacre, they were being haunted by the battles they had fought since Mabao declared war on them...and he constantly found himself watching as Alpha Company was slain through various means, realizing his worst fears...losing his comrades.

_The pain..._

He gently touched his face, wincing at the pain shooting throughout his body. He was aware of an unusual pulsating pressure deep within his body, Spyro and Cynder were enjoying their time together, and he smiled grimly, wincing at the pain even a simple grin produced. He laid back down in bed, taking his mind off of the phantom pleasure radiating off of the two mating dragons, thinking over the last time he had suffered such pain as he did now. A simple vacation at a ranch in the desert, having turned into an angry, bloody feud, and Alex caught in the explosion of a motorcycle after he had gotten too trigger happy trying to resolve the situation. It had burned his body, almost in the same area as he was injured now, and it had taken two years before those burns had healed completely. Now here he was, in a similar situation to what he had been in that time, only the injuries were much worse, and it was hard telling how long it would take before these cleared up.

Finally, the mating pleasure leaking from the two dragons receded, and Alex was able to get comfortable once again, closing his eyes and praying that the nightmares would not return...almost begging for the return of the girl that plead for him, that cried for help...she didn't return.

Early the following morning, Alex and the rest of his comrades headed towards the conference center of the command center in the heart of the military district, seeking conference with General Elliot. With threats of another _Maxian _uprising following their close call against the Hermann-Reid, they had been working closely with Bleu and Fox in their Research &amp; Development program to up their defensive and preliminary attack measures, since it seemed that the _Maxia _were a lot better off than they had originally anticipated...or hoped for.

The plan was known as _Project Halo_, and would involve establishing a spacial superweapon that could be used against the _Maxia _if the need arose. After hundreds of hours of careful planning and conversation, they had drawn up a rough blueprint of the proposed weapon. It would involve a massive, steel ring that would encircle Planet Earth, armed with massive, super-heated plasma cannons that they could aim and fire anywhere around the world at will. Due to its sheer size, the weapon would take out large swathes of territory at a time, regardless of friendly or neutral presence in the area, cementing its status as a W.M.D, so friendlies wouldn't be able to use it anywhere. However, if the _Maxia _were giving them grief in strongly opposing territories, such as enemy fortresses or within the Burned Lands, they could fire the weapon, which was currently known only as the _Ring_, right on the _Maxia _and obliterate them within seconds, giving the Terminators a massive tactical advantage over the opposition. It could also be used as a defensive measure, knocking out large percentages of invasion forces before they even had a chance to reach the walls of New Alexandria.

Shortly before Alpha Company had discovered the new _Maxian _capital, situated upon the ruins of Washington DC, they had finalized the plans with R&amp;D and construction had begun on the components of the _Ring _superweapon. They would build parts of the weapon in their research facility beneath New Alexandria, within the mountains on either side of the city, then send them up to space where they would be pieced together. It was truly a technological marvel, like something right out of a science fiction novel, and it would serve well to intimidate the hell out of their enemies. In theory, it seemed foolproof, but in reality, there was a lot of obstacles to get the project in place. The most obvious one, approval from organizations like NASA and the UN, would be impossible to achieve, given the organizations' alliance with the United States and President Mabao, and thus their opposition to the militia. In addition to that, there was also an issue with building the collective 'puzzle' pieces and shipping them to space for assembly. Not only would it be nearly impossible to hide their construction from the rest of the world, putting them in a very vulnerable state, but space shuttle launches were expensive, and even the Terminator Militia's bank was not infinite. Plus, there were a lot of educated guesses they had to make in size estimates and how parts of the weapon worked, since there was no feasible way they could build and test a prototype. Add to that, no one knew _how _to build in space, so it would require much trial and error in order to put everything together.

Eventually, however, they had completed the individual sections of the _Ring_ and had begun sending them into orbit, paying off the Russian and Chinese forces within the ISS, neutral to the war, in order to keep mum about what was occurring. Once the last of the launches sent the final pieces into orbit, they stumbled across their next major problem...the _Ring _would completely encircle the planet, meaning that, unless their measurements were perfect, one small mishap could knock the _Ring _into Earth and potentially knock the planet out of orbit, spelling very bad news indeed. Out of fear that building the weapon outside of Earth's atmosphere could potentially affect the gravitational pull of either Earth's rotation or its revolutions around the sun, they were building the _Ring _just inside the thermopause. Satellites would be able to freely float beneath the _Ring _without fear of colliding with it, although flotsam such as meteoroids or comets could pose an issue, which was why they were arming the _Ring_ with auto-turrets that could destroy debris to prevent causing damage to the weapon itself, or potentially knocking it out of orbit. It would be kept in orbit, maintaining a very precise balance, using the earth's natural gravitational forces, although it would be armed with large thrusters to correct the orbit if needs be, as well as 'aim' the _Ring_'s cannons at the target to be fired upon. Massive clusters of LEDs, between three and five hundred square miles in area, would be lined along the interior of the _Ring_, visible from the earth's surface, and would mark three specific states: 'going green' marking that the weapon is armed and readying to fire, 'standby yellow' to mark that the weapon is fire-ready, but has yet to be activated, and 'dead red' to mark the _Ring_'s recharge period, shortly after firing.

It would be controlled by three centers, with one bunker in the mountains west of New Alexandria, one bunker near the Terminator-friendly gaseous giant planet of Swizzle Firma, their manufacturing hub, and the final command center to be within the _Ring _itself. It would have an adjustable area of effect, able to be determined at any point during its arming process, and after a brief charging period would unleash a constant beam of super-heated plasma to the target area for approximately ten seconds before entering the 'dead red' state. There would be five plasma cannons housed within the weapon, with only one being able to fire at a time. Upon firing, all of the _Ring_'s energy would be poured into one cannon and one cannon only.

Elliot led them to the mountains west of the city where they watched the last of the shuttles launch, just as the first rays of sunlight began to brighten the dark skies. Once the shuttle breached the atmosphere into space, Alex turned to face Elliot, "How long do you think it'll take to assemble the damn thing?"

The general shrugged, "We're not going to actually begin assembling it until nightfall...the less people know about its construction the better. Ideally, we'll have it finished by the time daylight hits the United States. We'll begin working on the parts over the southern hemisphere as soon as the sun sets down there, which will probably be within an hour or two over here."

"Doing a Berlin Wall sorta thing, huh?" Spyro asked.

"That's the plan. The less time it takes to build this thing, the less time the _Maxia _have to react and stop it before it gets built. Once she's done, she _should _be able to hold her own against whatever the _Maxia _may throw at her...even then, we don't necessarily live in _Star Wars_, so I don't imagine they'll have any armed spacecraft to take us on. Worse they can do is send soldiers into space to sabotage our work teams, which I'm hoping to avoid."

Alex nodded, "Sounds good to me...God I hope this works."

"It should. We had Bleu and Tails work on this project first hand, with Bleu overseeing it directly, they're technological geniuses, I don't think we'll have any problem here. What I'm worried about is the exact way it gets the job done and the time it'll take...those are two things we couldn't guarantee. So we won't know how and how well it'll operate until we actually test fire the son of a bitch."

"Well that's just wonderful..."

"Bleu was very careful to ensure that everything went exactly as he planned it...I have no doubts it'll work."

"Do we have a rough time on the cooldown period?"

"Negative, we won't know that until we actually fire it, not will we know how long it'll take to aim, charge, and fire the bastard, though the beam itself is capped off at ten seconds."

"Can't say I'm looking forward to testing it...if something goes wrong, we may have just destroyed the world."

"Yeah, but if it works, we will have a _huge _advantage over the _Maxia_."

"Yeah, and that's the only reason why I'm glad it's there."

"You need to look at the glass as half full, Commander, stop being so negative."

"I can't help that I'm afraid it's not gonna work right," Alex sighed, "I've always been pessimistic, that's just my nature."

"Well, if ever was a good time to adopt an optimistic view on life, now's it."

The next day, Alex stepped out onto his balcony, turning to face the skies, in awe. A thin, black ribbon stretched across the sky, nearly cutting it in half. From his position, he could see the lights on the weapon glowing a deep red, and he was stunned by how much they could see from the earth's surface. He and Alpha Company met Elliot inside the command center within the military district, where the general was quick to brag on the efficiency of the team that had pieced together the _Ring_. "As we speak, our teams are welding together the final pieces of the weapon."

"When will it be fire-ready?"

"By tonight at the very latest, thankfully, it was a lot easier than we anticipated. Bleu really outdid himself, he made sure to make a large enough space between the guts of the _Ring _and the walls to allow a man...or a hundred...to get in there to weld the pieces together. We still have to get out and weld the outside as well, but the inside, last I checked, is almost done."

"We're gonna test it, right?"

"Of course," and Elliot grinned, "Once I receive word that we're done and our guys are outta there, it'll be ready to fire on our command."

Later afternoon, their opportunity arose. Just as dusk fell upon the northern hemisphere, Elliot received the call that the weapon was fire-ready and their teams were on their way back to the surface. Alex, walking with the rest of the High Command back from the store, turned to face the sky as the red lights lining the _Ring_ turned yellow, one-by-one. The Commander could only grin, once more forcing him to wince at the pain it sent throughout his face.

"Looks like she's ready for action," Piermont chuckled.

Spyro nodded, and Cynder asked, "I'm still not so sure how I feel about it..."

"Yeah, neither am I," Spyro sighed, "I mean...it's cool we got the upper hand against the _Maxia _but...I just have a really bad feeling about all of this."

"Bad guys or not, it doesn't really seem fair," Cynder frowned, "And I feel so bad for the civilians who see that thing and have no idea what it does or what it's for."

"I imagine they'll find out soon enough...or work out the puzzle pieces and figure it out for themselves," Alex replied grimly.

"Yeah...but I don't know, man...I just don't like it," Spyro continued.

"Well it's the _Maxia_'s own friggin' fault that thing's up there in the _first _place. If Mabao wouldn't have declared war on us and tried to level New Alexandria, then perhaps they wouldn't to face the thing that's gonna utterly annihilate 'em," Piermont chuckled, "Fuggin' URA! I wanna see Mabao's reaction when he sees that thing, I bet it will be beautiful."

"Just wait until we fire it," Alex replied, managing to summon a slight grin that didn't hurt him as bad, "Betcha anything we'll see a PSA on it."

"Oh, I wouldn't doubt it," Piermont replied.

"If the _Ring _does what it's supposed to do...I only hope and pray that we don't have to resort to it that often," Cynder sighed, "It seems more like a tool of last resort, a desperation move, than it does as the future of modern warfare."

"I agree with Cynder," Spyro replied with a firm nod, "We can't control what it destroys in the target area...meaning that we could easily hit civilians, neutral forces, or friendlies."

"And?"

All of the High Command, even Piermont, turned to face Alex, aghast. "Hell do you mean, 'and'?" Cynder snapped, eyes narrowed.

Alex, wearing a somber expression, turned to face the she-dragon, "So what if it does? It's Mabao's damn fault it's there in the first place. If we resort to it, the only person that can be blamed is President Mabao and his forces. Any unintentionally spilled blood is not on my hands, it's on the _Maxia_'s."

"Dude...I've put up with a lotta fucked up shit you've said in the past," Piermont began, "But that's pushin' my limit...even for _me_! If you happily nuke everybody you see just because there are a few pieces of _Maxia _here and there...then you are no better than Mabao is."

"Screw you..."

"It's true," Cynder replied, "I mean, even _'Necro'_ goes out of his way to avoid hurting anyone that's not involved! Are you _really _gonna go so low as to kill everybody and everything in your path? What kind of madman _does _that?"

"Someone who couldn't care less about the value of a human life," and he continued forward, ignoring the complaints from the rest of his companions.

The other three members of the High Command remained fixed in place, jaws dropped, unable to believe what they had just heard. "How could he even _think _of doing such a thing..." Cynder began, voice small.

Piermont frowned, "Well...when you've seen the shit and been forced to do the kinda crap that he's had to in his life...you kinda never learn to care about others who you have nothing to do with. I understand where he's getting at, but at the same time, it amazes me just how borderline crazy he really is."

"He's not going to get all trigger happy with the _Ring _is he?" Spyro asked, sounding worried.

"Nah, Elliot won't let 'em. He may try, but as long as Elliot's here, it ain't gonna happen."

"Is he really that bad or is he just dicking with us?" Cynder asked.

Piermont chuckled, "Ah, Cyn...you should have seen him when we stormed Junior Town," and he continued forward.

"Wait...what does that mean?" but she was ignored as Piermont continued forward, running to catch up with his rider. Spyro and Cynder exchanged graven glances before racing forward to catch up to the others.

"So she's ready for action?" Alex asked as he arrived in the west mining district.

"Roger," Elliot replied with a chuckle, "Follow me," and he led them through a tunnel carved through one of the peaks, disguised as a privately owned mine, leading them through a number of curving passages, through a steel blast door, and into the labyrinthine network of halls and passages that extended within the mountain. Several minutes later, they reached the blast door leading to the _Ring_'s control bunker. Elliot handed the Commander a keycard then walked to one side of the door. "Okay, on the count of three, we swipe the cards at the same time, got it?"

Alex nodded.

"All right! One, two, and three..." and both he and Alex slid their respective keycards through the slots on either side of the door. Both lights flashed green and the door slowly opened wide, allowing them inside. Alpha Company raced into the room just as the door slammed shut behind them, and they approached a terminal in the center of the room. All around them were terminals and workstations covered in different colored lights and buttons. At the front of the room, positioned across the wall, was a monitor that showed the view through one of the cameras mounted on the side of the _Ring_ facing Earth.

"Where we gonna fire it?" Alex asked.

"Thinking the Burned Lands just north of here," Elliot replied, "Close enough we can see what it does, but far enough that we don't kill ourselves or our allies in the process. There's no formation in the Burned Lands at this hour, and the gates are closed for the night."

"Let's do this then."

With a grin, Elliot tapped at the terminal for a moment before a command prompt appeared onscreen. "This is what we're gonna do..." the general began, "I'm gonna set an AOE of five square miles, that's the lowest I can possibly go...and is still pretty damn precise."

After confirming the AOE and coordinates, a camera feed popped into view in the upper right corner of the command prompt, and they watched as thrusters along the _Ring _spat and sputtered, the weapon itself slowly beginning to move into position. A countdown timer of five minutes appeared, reading 'FINDING TARGET'.

"Go up on the surface," Elliot said, "You should be able to see what's going on. Keep me updated so I know everything's going all right."

Alpha Company returned to the surface, Alex mounting Piermont before the Commander's Wing took to the skies, heading to the Northern Ramparts, with the ground based members of their unit in tow. Piermont folded his wings, gently lowering onto a perch upon the ramparts, the rest of the Commander's Wing landing soon after. All the guards in the area had their eyes turned to the sky, and Alpha, appearing around the Commander, did the same. In the darkening skies, they could see the black ribbon of the _Ring_, visible LEDs on green, slowly moving and rotating across the nighttime skies.

"How's it look?" Elliot asked over the radio.

"Looking pretty good so far," Alex replied, "She's moving into position."

Finally, the _Ring_ paused in its movement, and Alex watched, amazed, as he watched the doors inside of the weapon _actually _open. The conical barrel of the plasma cannon slowly slid out of the dark interior of the _Ring_, visible from Earth's surface regardless of its distance, and Alex realized just how massive it was.

"Elliot...the cannon is massive..."

"I know," t he general replied, "I'm monitoring it over one of the city cams, scary as hell isn't it?"

The cannon wasn't the only visible part either, Alex could clearly see a few of the spirals of wire that connected the cannon and the interior, and he watched through the open _Ring _doors as a green, horizontal light zoomed across the interior of the _Ring_, feeding into the base of the cannon. A green ball of light appeared in the mouth of the barrel, first small, but growing larger and brighter until it was nearly the size of the moon in the nighttime sky, illuminating the world in an eerie sickly green hue, as bright as day.

"Charging at 75%," Elliot said, "Approximately sixty seconds before fire...80%...85%..."

At 90%, the world flashed brilliantly and they heard a sound like rushing water played in reverse. With another loud _whoosh_, the city was covered in a bright, blood red hue that rapidly shrank until it became a singular beam about three miles north of the city walls.

"You should be able to see the tracking laser," Elliot said over the radio, "That tells you what the AOE is...everything in that red beam will be gone in about fifteen seconds."

"Jesus..." Spyro exclaimed, jaw dropped.

"Ten seconds, 95% charged," Elliot replied, and he began to count down.

Upon reaching zero, the world flashed white with a powerful heat and wind, forcing Alpha Company to shield their eyes as they heard another whooshing sound, followed by the eerie, futuristic whine and thick drone of the plasma beam firing down on Earth's surface. Alex counted the length of the sound, and once he reached ten seconds, it suddenly ceased and the world darkened. Alpha Company opened their eyes, jaws dropped as they watched the beam narrow down to the point of nonexistence before rapidly retreating back into the cannon, which now began to pull back into the _Ring_'s interior, the doors closing slowly. The green lights all flicked red almost instantaneously, and once the last of the cannon was hidden from view behind the doors which closed with a surprisingly audible but distant _thud_, Alpha remained in place, shocked into silence.

The guards around them muttered to each other, and Alex finally tapped his earpiece, "Did you _see _that, Elliot!?"

"Hell yeah I did..." the general breathed, "God damn!"

All that remained marking the AOE of the weapon's firing was a shallow crater of glowing rock and glassed sand, with steam pouring off the rapidly cooling ground.

"_DAYUM_!" Piermont bellowed, laughing, "Holy shit! Anyone that sees that is _definitely _gonna need a new pair of undies...holy crap."

"Congratulations..." Elliot began, catching his breath, "Alex, the test fire was successful...you have successfully pioneered the future of warfare."


	19. Chapter XVIII: Cease Fire

_**Chapter XVIII**_**:**

**-''Cease Fire''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**30 May 2011**_**-**

**-**_**1114 Hours**_**-**

Alex slid open the glass door and stepped out onto the west balcony of Club Camelot, the last one awake once again. "So you're still alive, huh?" Piermont chuckled, laying back against the wall of the hot tub, "Shit man, you're waking up later and later anymore...staying up late jacking your meat to that bestiality porn?"

"Shut up," Alex grumbled, stepping into the hot tub, hesitantly laying down, hissing as the warm water touched the burn scars across his chest.

"I'm not hearing a 'no'," Piermont cooed.

"Fuck off," Alex growled, "Nightmares keeping me up."

"Sure...though I wouldn't call your little delphinic girlfriend a nightmare...hell, I thought you liked that kinda shit."

"Not her!" Alex spat, "I haven't even dreamed about her since Champaign..."

"Zinnia?"

"No."

"Sarah?"

Alex glared at the dragon, he _had _recently been talking to her, having made friends while they were in school.

"Oh! That's right! It must be _Cynder_!"

"Knock it off, Pierre, all right?" Spyro sighed.

"Fuck you, Spearow, this doesn't have anything to _do _with _you_! Anyway," and Piermont popped his neck, "Tell me, bud, you and Sarah hooked up yet?"

"We're still talking," Alex replied.

"She's single, right?"

"Yup."

"You are single...she's crushing on you, you are crushing on her...I say go for it, man! _Carpe diem,_ my man! Seize life by the jewels and knock 'em where it hurts! God put a girl in your path that likes you," he raised one fist, "you like her..." he raised his other fist before bumping them together, "Make it work. Finally you don't have to get all desperate and shit on us, hooray!"

"_Spyro!_" a voice called out, alerting Alpha Company.

They turned to face towards the city as a small golden dot approached them, and Spyro cocked his head to the side in surprise as Sparx flapped readily towards him. "Sparx?" the purple dragon asked, "Is that you?"

"Oh great..." Cynder sighed.

"Who's Sparx?" Alex asked.

"Spyro's old friend," the she-dragon replied, "He hates me and through a fit because Spyro and I mated."

"Fun..."

"No shit."

"Spyro!" Sparx exclaimed, out of breath, "I need your help right now!"

Spyro's eyes narrowed, "I thought you were done putting up with me and Cyn?"

"I don't care about that right now! It's Ember!"

"What about her?" Spyro groaned.

"She's talking about killing herself, man! Help me!"

"_What_?" both Spyro and Cynder exclaimed in unison, "Where?"

The Commander's Wing emerged above the Mushroom Swamps in the Realms, once home to Spyro and Cynder. The air was very humid and hot, despite the nation's proximity to Antarctica, and it reeked of stagnant water. Sparx led them throughout the mushroom trees, arriving at the mossy, ruined Dragon Temple.

"Follow me!" Sparx said anxiously, fluttering ahead of them, Alpha Company in tow. They reached a central chamber at the center of the temple, where Alex's eyes widened at the sight of four massive dragons resting. Sparx flipped around the round, searching for something. When he couldn't find it, he flew over to one of the dragons, whose scales were a deep red in color, "Ignitus! _IGNITUS_!" he howled, trying to wake the beast.

When Ignitus' eyes snapped open, Alex and his comrades slowly stepped backward...only Spyro and Cynder remained firmly in place The Guardian spied the two small Realm dragons, and his eyes adopted a surprised and almost saddened appearance, "Spyro..." he began in a slow, grandfatherly voice, "You...you have returned..."

The other three Guardians awoke then, and Alex gulped, with Piermont, in his natural form, saying, "_Crap_..."

"Iggy! Buddy! Where's Ember? Have you seen her?" Sparx asked, flapping around the dragon's face.

Alex could sense that all eyes were on him and his comrades, and he found himself shying away from their glances, worried about their reaction. He had bad experiences with parenting figures of members of his team, with his spat with Mufasa, Simba's father, immediately coming to mind.

"IGNITUS!" Sparx yelled, and the red dragon sighed, turning to face the dragonfly, annoyed.

"What is it, Sparx?"

"Where is Ember?"

"Did you check her lake?"

Sparx fell silent, "I'll...be right back..." and he flew back to Spyro, grabbing onto one of the purple dragon's horns and attempting to pull him away, back towards where they had come from, "C'mon, man! We need to go find her!"

"So you're still alive, Spyro?" a green dragon, Terrador, said in a deep, booming voice.

"He left to save my life," Cynder replied firmly, "If you're going to be mad at anyone, be mad at me."

"Hurry!" they could hear Sparx shout from down the hall, and, with a sigh, Spyro and Cynder turned around and raced back towards where they had come from, Alpha Company in tow. Soon, only Alex remained inside the sanctuary, unable to move, unsure of what to say or how to react. All four Guardians stared him down with a very unwelcome and furious glance as he slowly backstepped towards the door, finally turning around and running away.

"EMBER!" Cynder called as the Commander's Wing rocketed through the mushroom trees and across the snaking lakes of the swamps, Alpha Company following along closely behind and beneath them.

They finally arrived at a large, crescent-moon shaped lake, situated in a clearing. The pink dragoness, slightly smaller than Spyro, moped around by the bank, staring into the dirty, ashen water, having yet to fully recover from Cynder's reign of terror a number of years earlier.

"Ember..." Spyro muttered in a low voice as he and the rest of the Commander's Wing landed behind her, Alpha Company launching out of the mushroom forest to meet them.

"What do you want? Just...leave me alone!" Ember choked, sounding as if she had been crying.

"Ember...what the _hell _are you _doing_?" Spyro asked, "What's wrong?"

She turned to face them, her eyes swollen and red, "Why do _you _care? Just go back to your _girlfriend_! You don't want me anyway!" and a fresh wave of sobs tore through her.

The purple dragon only sighed, casting an irritated glance towards Alex before launching into the air and racing back into the forest. The rest of Alpha Company stood around awkwardly before, one-by-one, they, too headed back into the forest, following Spyro, as confused as Alex felt, the Commander was sure. Once everyone else had gone, except for Cynder and Ember, Alex _also _made his way back into the forest, leaving the two female dragons alone.

"What's wrong?" Cynder asked her once the others were gone, sitting beside the smaller dragon, "You can talk to me."

Sniffling, Ember looked up to face the sympathetic Cynder, "Spyro doesn't like me..." she managed, "But I like him, and there's no way I can move on..."

Cynder closed her eyes, struggling to hold back an amused grin, all of this drama over the fact that she and Spyro had mated. Although she figured that Ember was immature and naive enough to be effected by such a turndown, being the epitome of an overly-attached girlfriend, even though the attraction was purely one-sided, she still couldn't believe that the dragon was threatening to _kill _herself over Spyro's rejection, if it could even be _called _that.

"There's others out there," Cynder finally sighed, "You'll find someone, don't worry. Even our _Alex _doesn't have someone he loves yet."

"But Cynder...I just love him so much...if he doesn't want me...then nobody does..."

"That's not true! There's someone out there for you, just gotta be a little more patient, okay?"

"There isn't anyone out there for me!" she cried, "Spyro's the only one that I've ever loved! He's the only one that I _can _love! He's the only one that likes me, nobody else does!"

"_I _like you," Cynder replied.

"Yes but...not as a lover...right? I mean, I've never been with another girl before..."

Cynder interrupted, "No, I mean, I like you as a friend..."

"Oh..." and she blushed, looking away.

"Listen, Ember...don't hurt yourself just because _one _little dragon doesn't return your feelings."

"I'm just...I'm so lonely...and I can't imagine being with anyone but Spyro..."

Quickly losing patience with the distraught dragon, Cynder, biting her tongue as an idea came into mind, sighed, saying, "I'll be right back, okay?"

Ember only nodded in response as Cynder took off back into the forest, finding the rest of Alpha Company sitting around a river, chatting to each other.

"Spyro," the she-dragon began, landing, and she nodded for Spyro to come over to her.

"She's batshit crazy, man..." Alex chuckled.

"Yeah," Piermont added with a smirk, "And here I was thinking that _Alex _was desperate!"

Cynder led Spyro back into the forest, away from the other members of Alpha Company, and she said to the purple dragon, "Spyro...we have a problem..."

"You mean, besides that crazy chick over there?" Spyro frowned.

"Listen...she seems hellbent on the idea that she will never find another person that cares about her, and she's threatening to kill herself if she can't have you."

"Yeah? And? It's a bit too late for that..." then, "There _is _a reason I chose you over her, Cyn...for one, you're not obsessed with me."

"I have a completely honest request, so please hear me out and think over this, all right?"

"Sure...what's going on?"

"I want you to mate with her."

"_WHAT!?_" and the other members of Alpha Company turned towards the direction they had gone, Spyro then repeated, whispering this time, "What? I don't want to..."

"Just hear me out, okay?" Cynder asked, "Mate with her, maybe give her a rather unpleasant time so she decides she doesn't want you after all, but just..." and Cynder sighed, "Just give the girl what she wants."

"But Cynder..."

"Don't 'but Cynder' me, Spyro," and she smiled, "I'm giving you a chance to cheat on me with another girl, you should be honored."

"I don't _want _to cheat on you!" he said, hurt, "And I _definitely _don't want to cheat on you with..._her_!"

"At least just once, okay?"

Spyro sighed, finally submitting, "Fine...but if she continues to want to mate me..."

"Then give it to her, at least until we can find someone else for her."

"Fine...but I better get a threesome with you, at _least _once..."

Cynder chuckled, winking, "I think that can be arranged..." then, sobering, "There's...another thing, too..."

"What is it?"

"Since you are taking a second mate..._I_ want a second mate."

"Oh great..."

"Please?"

"Fine...who is it?"

Cynder smiled warmly towards him.

General 'Necro' stood on his balcony, looking up into the sky at the black ribbon of the _Ring_, the lights along its inner rim glowing yellow. "Lucy, I am very worried..."

Silence for several minutes.

"From what I've heard, they say that the Terminator Militia put it up...if they did, we have good reason to be worried, there is no telling what it is capable of."

Silence hanged in the air over the sleepy city, now past curfew.

"Yes...and that is _exactly_ what I'm worried about. If it _is _a weapon of mass destruction, do we have a chance of defending ourselves against it?"

'Lucy' changed the subject then, and he smiled sadly.

"Yes...I've been talking to Mabao. I'm trying as hard as I can to reunite us, my dear, but Mabao insists on stalling conversations to free you. Trust me, my dear Lucy, I am trying everything I can, everything in my power, to bring you back to me. I love you, I miss you, and even to this very day I dream of our reunion, to feel you, to hold you once again...it will be done, I promise."

He frowned then.

"I will _always _be here for you, my dear. Whenever I make a promise, I keep it...especially when it's to you. Don't worry, Lucy, I haven't forgotten you. I am trying everything in my power to bring you here to me, but for now, we must be patient, do forgive me."

He smiled to the unseen presence.

"Good night, my sweet, I will speak to you in the morning...I love you, dear," and he returned into his room, closing and latching the French doors behind him.

Back in New Alexandria, Alex stood upon his balcony, staring out towards the Burned Lands and the distant _Fiernes Curtain_, entranced by its untamed beauty and captivating dance. The sliding glass door behind him opened and Cynder stepped outside, standing beside him, "How are you feeling?"

He shrugged, "Pretty good, I've felt better..."

"Still thinking about the mystery girl of your dreams?"

He nodded, "'Course...although that's not what's on my mind right now..." and he sighed.

"What's wrong?" Cynder asked, concerned.

He shrugged, "Champaign...her voice has been silenced by the nightmares of what Spyro and I experienced back there...it's odd, I've never had such persistent nightmares since Cheet and I were caught in a stampede and trampled a long time ago."

"Stampede? What happened?"

"We were in Africa, summoned by one of our allies. Simba and Nala, we had returned them to their home a couple of years earlier, went missing. Their pride wanted us to look for them. While we were relaxing on a particularly hot day...too hot to navigate the deserts, we spotted Simba getting chased by a herd of wildebeests. Cheet and I went down there to save him...but in the process, he was thrown off and trampled...you see that limp he has when he walks?"

Cynder nodded and Alex sighed.

"That was a direct result of the events that transpired during the stampede...it's something that I feel guilty about, even to this day. He was thrown off the beast I was on...I was forced to choose between heading back for him or continuing forward to save Simba. I chose the latter, thinking that Simba had better chances of survival than Cheet did, and that I didn't want to lose _both _of them."

"As any person would..."

"Yes, but I should have figured he wouldn't be hurt that bad...that he could take it and keep going...I didn't go back for him, and now, because of that, he's crippled. There's a reason we don't _usually _put him in combat as much as we do others."

"I don't think he sees it as betrayal," Cynder remarked, "I mean, he's smart. I'm sure he knows where you frame of mind was at the time, and I'm sure he understands."

"Still...he never would have left me behind...yet I did."

Cynder nuzzled him affectionately, smiling warmly, "Don't worry. Cheet it still alive, so that's something you should be thankful for. Yes he may not be as agile as he once was, but both he and Simba clearly survived, and Cheet is as healthy as ever. Don't worry about what happened back then, I highly doubt he holds it against you."

"I just...I have a hard time making friends. So when I _do _make them, I hate feeling like I betrayed them...you understand where I'm coming from, right?"

She nodded, "I know _exactly _where you're coming from. We're no different, you know."

Silence fell before them as they both watched the wall of dragonfire burn brightly to the north.

"What a gorgeous view, huh?" she finally said, breaking the silence.

He nodded, "There's something so captivating about it, I don't understand but...I can literally sit out here for hours and just...watch the fire burn. Dragonfire is the only thing I've noticed that can have such spellbinding capabilities."

"Well...the way I always see it is that dragonfire, as an 'organic fire', so to speak, is actually alive. Besides, even if it weren't, just seeing such a mighty wall of fire...it is beautiful to watch, indeed...Spyro and I spend can easily spend hours just staring into it. There are also times when we mate in the light of it...that is a very magical experience."

"Speaking of which," Alex began, "Where is he? I'm surprised you two aren't together for once."

"He's sleeping," the she-dragon replied.

"You not tired?"

She smiled towards him, "What? Don't want me here with you?"

"Well, unfortunately there's not a whole lot I can offer. Don't really have much to talk about, y'know..."

"Hey, Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"I have a question for you...promise you won't be mad?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I promise."

Silence fell before them for several minutes before Cynder finally asked, "How do you feel about me?"

"What do you mean, Cyn?"

She turned to face him, asking in a worried tone, "Do you like me?"

He chuckled, "Course, you're my friend."

"Do you..._love _me?"

The question instantly confirmed what his suspicions were, although he chose to continue baiting her, "What do you mean?"

"You know..." and she blushed, "Do you love me?"

"Like as a sister?"

"No..." then, in a voice almost too quiet to be heard, "As a lover...a mate."

"I..." and he fell silent, unsure of what to say. He had a feeling that this is what it was about, but now that it was confirmed, he didn't know how to respond. His own emotions were conflicting over the thought. Yes, he was attracted to her, but at the same time, he worried about how others would accept the idea, shockingly enough, and he found himself wondering if she was onto some of the dreams that he had been having lately. Mixed in with nightmares of Champaign, he had experienced some rather suggestive dreams with the female dragoness. He became paranoid then, afraid that she was trying to bait an admission from him, even if she didn't return the same feelings. Finally, he settled with a generic, "Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, "I've just been thinking lately...kinda random thoughts here and there...I just wanted to get your ideas on how you feel about various members of your team."

"Do _you _love me? Not so much as a brother, but as a lover, or a mate?"

She turned to face him, smiling sheepishly, "I asked you first," and she managed to regain her composure long enough to send him a mischievous wink.

Worried about her reaction to such an admission, he finally gave in, taking the risk, and admitted, "Yes, I do."

Butterflies in her stomach, worried enough that she felt ill, Cynder looked into his eyes, hoping that he would be willing to accept what she had to offer, hoping that she was reading him correctly. Finally, much to his surprise, she climbed into his lap, standing, leaning on him for support as she kissed him on the mouth. He fell back until he was resting on his elbows, shocked and surprised. She blushed, looking away in embarrassment, "I...I'm sorry I..." but she was cut off as he kissed her back. Slowly nodding, legs trembling beneath her, she began in a worried tone, "I...I want to show you something..." before climbing off of him and guiding him back into his bedroom.

He took a seat on his bed and Cynder hopped onto it beside him, trembling as she walked a few feet away from him, crouching forward and raising her tail to him, silently announcing her intentions. Her genital slit, at the base of her erect tail, was engorged, swollen open to reveal the pink-lined dark interior of her vaginal tract, moist and shining in the dim light of the lamp on his nightstand. A strong, but not necessarily unpleasant, odor reached his nose, and he realized that it was coming from her. When she turned to face him again, he nodded, and she helped him undress as he lay down on his stomach. She climbed onto his belly, straddling him. They kissed again, her dabbing his lips with her tongue to request entry. As he did so, she wrapped one of her paws around his penis, tugging him to make it erect before she, first rubbing her moist, hot belly and slit against his lower abdomen, placed the tip of it against her and gently lowered herself onto him. He, gasping at the hot tightness of her body, stammered, a smile appearing on his face, "I figured...Y...You...you are the girl who likes me?"

She smiled warmly, nodding as she thrusted forward, making him gasp again, her vaginal walls contracting against him in response to his entry, almost like a massage on him, "Yes...I am..." then, crouching forward until their faces were near each other, resulting in him dipping deeper inside of her body, "I love you...I have for awhile..."

"I...I love you, too...but...what about Spyro...?"

"He knows..." she replied, gently stroking his cheek with a claw, "He's the one that convinced me to go ahead and do this..." she laid down on his stomach, rocking against him. He was astounded by how hot to the touch her soft belly scales were, almost as if she was feverish. Her whole body was hot to the touch, and there was a very faint vibration throughout her body...she was purring.

The act itself was short, but sweet, and when they both reached their simultaneous climaxes, a tiny squeak, accompanied by very brief, but powerful, spastic contractions across her body emanated from the dragoness. Her legs finally giving out beneath, she collapsed onto him, breathing heavily. He stroked her side, briefly sliding a hand against her slit, still moist and swollen, and slipping a finger inside of her, very hot and wet. Removing it, he saw that it was covered in his seed, which was now spilling out from her body. Slowly, the heat emanating from her began to dissipate, although her purring intensified as she gently nuzzled his chest, flicking her tail across his legs in satisfaction. Even as her body returned to normal, he could still feel her rubbery, hot, and slippery vaginal lips upon his chest.

"Thank you, so much..." she sighed, "I've been wanting to do that for a _long _time..." she looked up to face him, eyes innocent and full of love, "Did I...do good?"

He nodded, petting her, "You did great..."

She smiled, nuzzling him again, curling up into a ball on his chest, "Can I sleep with you tonight...?"

He chuckled, "After this? Sure..."

She kissed him again before curling into an even smaller ball, draping her tail over his thighs and drifting off, her purring intense and powerful as he stroked her soft flank scales, feeling her rapid heartbeat and breathing fluttering against his chest. Finally, he, too, drifted off, finding that his nightmares did not return that night.

President Mabao sat inside of his office, stirring sugar into a cup of tea, opera playing over his computer when the Tartarus Unit, exhausted and irritated at the early awakening, stumbled into the room. "Have a seat," he said, taking a sip from the steaming china.

They clumsily plopped down in the chars across from his sturdy oak desk, and he looked up to face them, grinning maliciously, "Tell me, boys...have you taken a look outside recently?"

"We've been sleepin'," Xerxes yawned.

"Well that's wonderful and all...but I'm serious."

"We haven't been up to the surface for a few days," Observer replied, "Day off."

"Day off? Who gave you a day off?"

"'Necro' did."

Mabao scowled, "Boy, this is the army, there are no _days off_, especially when we're in war! I'll have a word with 'Necro' later. However, allow me to spoil the surprise for you. There is a giant fucking ring surrounding the planet, you can see it from the ground, and from what I hear, the Terminators are planning to use it as a weapon. Now, I have a _very _serious and legitimate question...what use are you to me? Hmm?"

"What do you mean?" Xerxes asked, suddenly alarmed.

"Well, you are proving to be incapable of being _any _use to me. In fact, the only success you have is the flooding of the Quads, which, by the way, has receded now. Perhaps General 'Necro' was right, perhaps _he _would be more useful to our mission than you two bumbling idiots!"

"But, sir..."

"Don't 'but sir' me boy!" he roared at Observer, "Time and time again you have failed me, and quite frankly, I'm tired of giving you additional chances! Your use is beginning to outlive its course unless you can bring me back what I _PAY YOU TO DO_! I'm getting tired of pulling you idiots back into my office or sending you to be retrained by 'Necro'."

"It would probably help," Observer began, "If you didn't leave _'Necro'_ in charge of our training. He is useless!"

"Really now? Then how is it that 'Necro' has turned up more valuable Intelligence for me than you idiots have? It's not even his job, and yet he _still _has proven to be much more useful than you two fools! I might as well cut you from my pay and double 'Necro''s. How does that sound, hmm? Although his tactics and loyalties are questionable at times, he is quickly turning out to be one of the most valuable assets in the _Maxia_, while you two are quickly becoming dead weights. My suggestion, either start doing what I pay you to do, or you will see a _very_ unfortunate accident, got it?"

They vigorously nodded.

"Get out of my sight!"

Alex opened his eyes, feeling a heavy weight on his chest. Confused, he looked down, spying Cynder laying on top of him, curled in a ball, fast asleep. Instantly, he remembered what they had done the previous night, and he gently kissed her mouth, her bright sapphire-emerald eyes opening to meet his, so full of love and appreciation that it warmed his heart. She stood up and stretched forward, raising her tail and making sure she flashed herself briefly to him before walking back over, collapsing beside him, "Good morning..."

He smiled back, "Good morning..." and they kissed, "Thank you for last night..."

"No..." and she stroked his face with her tail blade, "Thank you...it was wonderful."

"You don't think it'll be the only time we_ do _that...do you?"

She winked at him, "Maybe...or maybe not, only time will tell, huh?"

She then hopped down off his bed, heading towards his bedroom door. "And Cynder?"

She paused in mid stride, turning to face him.

"I love you."

She smiled towards him, "I love you, too..." and she quietly slipped out of his room, leaving him laying back, smiling as he remembered what they had done. Never would he have imagined that he would wake up to find a dragon in his arms, having spent the night with him, and yet...he didn't mind at all. She was a good lover, almost better than Zinnia, much to his awe, and he _did _hope that what happened the previous night wouldn't be the only time it occurred. It was the most fun he had ever had, the best time he had ever experienced, and he would love to do it again, if he could.


	20. Chapter XIX: Future Warfare

_**Chapter XIX**_**:**

**-''Future Warfare''-**

**-Control Center, The _Ring_: Above Planet Earth-**

**-**_**26 October 2011**_**-**

**-**_**2118 Hours**_**-**

"Sir, we're picking up unknown readings on the radar."

A lieutenant approached the corporal who had called him over. The radar screen was picking up a massive reading from beneath them, between the _Ring_'s belly and Earth, although one click glance out the windows into the void beyond gave them no visible where their readings were coming from. "I don't see anything, you sure the equipment isn't malfunctioning?"

"Negative, sir."

"Any solar flares today?"

"Negative, sir," another voice spoke up from the room.

"Well, perhaps we have faulty equipment, because there's nothing out there."

As the lieutenant walked away, the corporal watching the screens stood up, walking over to the small window to take his own look outside, wondering what was causing the hits. Upon looking towards the day side of the planet, however, he noticed that there was nothing out there. Frowning, he squinted his eyes, noticing something didn't seem right. He noticed that the rays of light coming from the sun seemed to almost bend and warp unnaturally at one particular point. He returned to his workstation, digging out a pair of thermal goggles, usually used to spot any kind of radiation leakage from the hoses and pipes feeding the cannons, and he placed them upon his head.

Immediately, he found the source of the unknown hits on the radar. A massive, spider-like ship was positioned above earth, each of the four 'arms' of the ship extending downward, arcing to accommodate the planet's natural curve, almost like an upside down cradle. The very tips of the 'legs' were all connected through a tube-like tunnel, that circled around the ship, giving the whole structure the appearance of something such as half of a fan's protective casing. The ship, although cloaked to the naked eye, was not equipped with stealth technology, and as the operator observed the unknown object, his eyes widened as he spied the _Maxia_'s bull stenciled onto the side. Immediately, he called his commanding officer over to him, handing the lieutenant the goggles. "Sir, we got a problem..."

"No shit..." he replied, "I'm calling General Elliot."

Alex and Cynder remained fixed to each others' gaze, their eyes lovingly locked together as she quickly and silently brought them both to climax. The act completed, she collapsed into his arms again, breathing heavily, her body radiating such heat that blankets weren't even necessary. The Commander held the content she-dragon in his arms, the latter purring intensely, when he heard a knock on his bedroom door, followed by its opening.

Their eyes were suddenly, alarmingly, on the intruder, and Alex could barely contain a sheepish grin as he spied Spyro standing in the doorway, wearing a peculiar, troubled look of shock. "Sorry to...interrupt you two..." he began, wandering into the room, "But...uh..." and he turned around to look back outside, continuing, "Elliot called us in...he says we have a major problem...I was instructed to tell you personally."

"Couldn't wait?" Cynder asked, climbing off of Alex, the Commander himself sitting up in bed.

"No...he said he wanted us there, _now_," and Spyro turned around again, squeezing his eyes shut and looking towards the ground while Alex draped a blanket over himself. Eventually, the male dragon looked back up, "Yeah, I know...couldn't happen at a more perfect time," and he sighed, "Anyway, we should probably hurry before Elliot explodes again."

As the dragon turned to leave, Alex suddenly chuckled, "What's wrong? Not like you haven't seen a guy's tool before?"

Spyro sighed, "I have...I would just rather it wasn't someone else's other than my own," before he finally left, shaking his head.

Cynder chuckled, hopping down, "Careful, now he's going to want it," and she hopped on her rear legs, leaning against him for support, kissing his mouth before hopping back down again, continuing on out of the room, briefly flicking up her tail, exposing herself to him in the process, something Piermont informed him was, apparently, a common sign of goodbye between dragonian mates of all species and sexes.

A human-form Piermont slipped in behind her, watching her leave before closing the door, crossing his arms and turning to face his nude rider as he dressed himself, "Looks like 'Necro' has been busy."

"What's going on?" Alex asked, "Also, couldn't it wait?"

Piermont chuckled, "Bah! Not like anything I haven't seen before...and no, because I wanted to take the time and say that I'm kinda worried here. I'll be damned if the others know that."

"Why?"

"Cause we just had this gigantic spider-thing appear in thin air above the friggin' planet, and it definitely ain't ours, betcha that's what Elliot's freaking out about...and frankly, for good reason. If the _Maxia _put their _OWN _fucking W.M.D up there to counter ours, we're in trouble...they're a _lot _less honorable than we are, and a _lot _more trigger-happy than even _you_..." and he paused for a moment, grinning as he changed the subject, "Man, you and Cynder..."

"Shut up," Alex snapped.

"Hey, I ain't complainin', nor am I dissin' you. She's pretty damn sexy if you ask me, and she's considered _very _attractive and desirable by dragon standards. You scored big time, lucky bastard."

"I won't say anything about that."

"Bah! It's fine if you like her back, I know you do. You've_ always _been a dracophiliac anyway."

"How is she attractive by dragon standards?"

Piermont grinned, "Curvy, a little muscular, and the fact that her scales are _very _brightly, richly colored, smooth, and shiny, and her eyes are also bright. All good signs of health and fertility in females. She holds herself high, can stand her ground in a fight, and to add to that, and it's something that you probably don't realize, but every dragon has an odor to them, not necessarily when aroused, although that is _also _a thing..."

"So I've noticed. It's not really unpleasant, but definitely something very...wild, I guess..."

"Well...yeah. Anyway, she has a strong scent, a strong aura, and even the odor of arousal around her is strong and uh...what's the term I'm looking for...?"

"Attractive? Enticing? Arousing?"

"Sure, we'll go with those...and it permeates and lingers. Glad I'm not in my natural form right now, because even in this fleshy suit, I can smell her," and his nose scrunched up in response, "In my natural form, I would have _probably _gone nuts and lost control over myself, that's how bad it is. Anyway, _all_ are good signs of health and reproductive capability in a female that aren't necessarily based on aesthetics. Basically, she's a dragonian trophy wife. Her to us is like some busty, bouncy, big-assed woman to you humans."

"Better be important, Elliot," Alex muttered, entering the command center, the rest of his allies in tow.

The general grimaced in his direction, "Well, this is much more important than beating your damn meat, the _Maxia_ have..."

"Can't say I blame him," Piermont interrupted, "I'd be irritated, too, if you interrupted me and _my _mate, especially with someone as sexy as Cyn."

"Can it, Pierre!" Elliot growled, "This is more important than...wait what?"

Both Alex and Cynder glared at the dragon.

"What?" Piermont exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air, "What did _I_ do?"

"You didn't actually...did you?" Elliot asked, sounding concerned.

All eyes were now on Alex, who said nothing. Not a word was spoken until Cherub finally spilled it, "Yeah, they're a couple."

Elliot opened his mouth to say something before abruptly closing it again, then after several seconds, he said, "We are going to talk about this later."

Alex shrugged, snapping, "Get on with it. What's so damn important?"

"Anyway," and the general rotated on his heels, remote in hand as he turned to face the projected, 3D image of the globe in the center of the conference room. It zoomed out, revealing the _Ring_ encircling the planet, and the unknown _Maxian _structure, "The _Maxia _have put up some kind of...I wanna say a space station, between the _Ring _and Earth. We'd blast it to pieces, but doing so would not only unintentionally hit someone on the planet, given that it's no match for the beam, but would most likely damage the _Ring _in the process due to the station's proximity. We have _no _idea what it is, but one of our operators discovered it, and not ten minutes after we received the call from our engineers aboard, this station deactivate the cloaking device it's been using and revealed itself to the world. Radio chatter calls the station the 'ARK', acronym unknown, and we don't know its purpose...it just can't be good."

"Hell you expect _us_ to do about it?" Alex asked.

"I was getting to that!" Elliot spat, "We've been experimenting with fighters that are capable of operating in the void of space. I want you boys to get up there and figure out what's going on. Our guys have discovered the station is armed with defensive autoturrets, who's not to say they have something capable of mass destruction, much like the _Ring_. We cannot allow the _Maxia _to keep that thing in the air."

"Destroy it," Alex replied, "Easy enough."

"Except the _Maxia _have also unveiled space fighters and bombers to the public, who the hell knows what they have, but still _haven't _revealed. Looks like the _Ring_'s got them in a frenzy."

"Heh," Piermont began with a smirk, "I sense _Star Wars_' plot about to be a reality."

"That's what we're worried about," Elliot sighed, "And that's why we need to get up there and figure out what's going on."

"Why send Alpha?" Alex asked, "Regardless of our mutations, up in space, we're on equal levels with the _Maxia_. If we have to resort to dogfighting, we're as vulnerable as _they _are."

"Because Alpha is the most skilled out of any of our forces so, naturally, I'd put you in there first against such a high-risk operation."

"Not in spacial warfare!" Alex growled.

"Alpha designed the _Ring_, that means that you are already more experienced than the rest of our grunts are. Anyway, we'll ship you boys and girls up to the _Ring_, we have constructed a sort of space port on the structure, which is where you will be briefed yet again and instructed on how to use our fighters."

"I don't see this ending well..." Alex frowned.

"Gotta look at the bright side, Commander," Elliot chuckled.

"You know..." Spyro began, "We haven't...really been trained to go into space. We're not astronauts..."

"Well, you are now," the general growled, "The only astronauts we have are onboard the _Ring _to maintain it, not enough defenses against whatever the _Maxia _may have. We don't have enough time to train more. Alpha Company is the most skilled unit we have, so I would hope you boys can manage to make it work somehow."

"Can't we recruit some?" the purple dragon continued.

"From where?" Elliot smirked, "NASA is against us and China and Russia have _explicitly _stated they refuse to get involved in Terminator/_Maxian _affairs."

Alex sighed, "Fine, we'll do it..."

"Luckily for you, most of our Hornets are capable of space travel...a side project we began working on following the erection of the _Ring_. It's still an experimental procedure, but it may work nevertheless."

"How we getting up there?" Piermont asked, "Since we don't really have the tools or money to send a shuttle into space."

"Exactly why I brought up the Hornet issue," the general replied with a grin, "They'll take you up to the station we set up on the _Ring_, where you will switch out to fighters designed specifically for spacial warfare."

"When are we leaving?" Alex asked.

"In a couple of hours," Elliot continued, "We have some last minute work to do first."

"Sitrep on your station," Mabao began, entering the room shared by the Tartarus Unit. Observer was sitting at a complicated computer setup in one corner of the room, where he had all eyes on the ARK and its surrounding area, able to monitor all functions from the unmanned W.M.D without having to so much as leave his room.

"She's fully operational," Observer chuckled, "Just give the order, and she'll be ready to fire on a moment's notice."

"Not yet," the president began, "'Necro' is moving his troops into position for the main assault, the ARK will only be used as a last resort."

Observer scoffed, "Course..." then, "Hey, wait a minute. I thought the frontline work was _our _responsibility?"

Mabao grinned, "My friend, I need you here to monitor your station in the event it's needed. You can't very well do that from the frontlines. Besides, neither he nor I want to take more lives than absolutely necessary."

"Is Rick with you?"

"Negative, he's on lavatory duty following his failure to report that damned weapons array to us before it became a problem...you would be, too, but I gave you some slack following your success with Intelligence gathering, something your partner fails at."

Returning to the subject at hand, the computer genius scoffed, "Anyway, New Alexandria is the capital of the Terminator Militia. They are _all _loyalists to Vaughn if not members of the damned militia itself."

"I still feel generous enough to give them a chance of redemption."

Observer swore beneath his breath, but otherwise said nothing.

"Make me proud, boy," Mabao replied, clapping a hand on and shaking the tall man's shoulder before exiting the apartment.

As the sky slowly began to brighten to morning, Alpha Company met with Elliot in the mountainside hangar west of New Alexandria. From the mountain path, Alex could just barely make out the shape of the so-called 'ARK', much smaller than the _Ring_, and although he wondered and worried as to what purpose the structure could have, he doubted it would be as threatening as the _Ring_. When they arrived, they found a Hornet already prepared for them, and Tails, as excited as a kid in a candy store, quickly put on the airtight suit he was given, climbing into the cockpit. The rest of Alpha Company, also donning space suits, piled into the machine, both excited and anxious for the upcoming mission.

"Remember, ladies," Elliot called to them, "Gotta be a little more careful up there than down here...mutations or not, you are pretty much on equal terms with the _Maxia _when you get up there. We'll have the _Ring_'s defenses to aide you in the fight, but I'm not sure how much help they'll be...so you may be on your own here, at least mostly."

"All I hope is that the _Maxia _don't realize that Alpha Company isn't home...I'm hoping this mission is quick and easy."

"You and me both, Vaughn."

"Keep me updated about what's going on down here."

"Wilco," Elliot nodded, closing the door and slapping the side of the machine, "Take care of yourself," and he watched as the Hornet took off. Riding copilot of Tails was one of the soldiers actually trained to operate in space, and once they had exited the hangar and began gaining altitude, he began instructing the fox on what to do.

Through binoculars, several miles outside the city, 'Necro' watched as the Hornet rose into the air. Grinning widely, he holstered them, chuckling to himself. At last, he was going to taste the thrill of combat once again. With the Tartarus Unit back in the Necropolis, he didn't think that the mission, as simple as it was, would be a failure. With Alpha Company, hopefully all of them, distracted with the ARK, he would lead the Hermann-Reid in another attempted siege on New Alexandria, hoping to finally wrestle control of the militia's capital from them. Much to the shock and even dismay of the rest of his force, he was clad in full steel armor, wearing a helmet in the shape of a dragon's skull, a long, red and purple cape flowing behind him. As a mutant, he didn't find it necessary to wear the standard black body armor clad by the rest of the _Maxia_, especially since it seemed to be largely ineffective against the militia for reasons he still could not figure out, other than they were armed primarily with full metal jacket rounds. He sat straddled upon a similarly armored, winged horse, female, named Silver. She had been genetically modified while still in the womb during his time in the SEALs, experimented upon in utero by a conglomerate of some of the greatest scientific minds in the world, utilizing the militia's mutation serum to create the future of warfare. Although _Project Angel_, the United States' first attempt to mass-produce genetically modified super soldiers using the Terminator Militia's mutation serum, was considered a colossal failure, given that all subjects, with the sole exception of Silver, were unable to survive without horrible side effects, 'Necro' had stolen Silver from the lab he had been operating in before it was leveled in an enemy bombing.

Now here she was, fully grown, fully sentient, and serving as not only his warhorse, but as a legitimate friend and companion. She was heavily armored, with only some parts of her stark white fur visible beneath the heavy steel, in addition to her mighty wings, currently folded, and a few tufts of her silver-gray mane. As he waited for the opportune moment to strike, irritating his bloodthirsty comrades used to the Tartarus Unit's trigger-happy style of combat, he polished his twin swords, preparing them for the upcoming battle. In addition to his skill as a marksman and expert strategist, he was also considered a master swordsman, having practiced the art of swordfighting since he was a child due to his fondness for wielding the cold steel of an ancient weapon that had long stood the test of time in many of humanity's conflicts and gentlemanly duels of honor and respect. Another aspect of his personality that irritated his companions, especially the Tartarus Unit and even President Mabao, his taste for honorable combat, believing that there was still honor in war, and that the cowardly, so-called 'preemptive' tactics utilized in the present time were barbaric and made humanity nothing more than glorified animals.

"Is it almost time?" Silver asked him, snorting.

"Soon," he replied, gently petting his mount's withers, "We must be patient. Like a viper, we await the opportune moment to strike. To succeed in battle, you must understand the best time to attack. Move in too soon, and you can be surrounded and bested by the enemy. Once Alpha Company is out of the way, we will launch our attack. Don't worry..." and he grinned.

After the turbulence of passing through the earth's atmosphere dissipated, Alex took the opportunity to look outside the window. As they passed around the planet, they could see rays of sunlight arcing across the earth's curve, a truly beautiful sight. Although it was primitive and largely ineffective, the Hornet had a sort of artificial gravity, enough that they wouldn't float around at least. Tails rotated the machine, heading towards the _Ring_, and it was here where Alpha Company caught their first glimpse of the ARK. Although it _was _much smaller than the _Ring_, it was positioned almost like a cap upon the 'top' of Earth, close enough to the _Ring_ that a blast from it could potential damage the friendly superweapon as well.

Finally, they reached the closest hangar, docking with the _Ring_, where they were greeted by several operators of the weapon, including the man who had originally spotted the ARK. They were briefed on what little data that was known about the _Maxia_'s weapon before being led to where the spacecraft were stationed, they were briefly instructed on how to operate the spacecraft, similar to how the Hornet was piloted, before they adopted human forms and piled into the fighters, taking off one-by-one, through the forcefield on the hangar mouth, and into the endless void beyond.

"Let's move towards the ARK," Alex began over the radio, "Just watch yourselves...hard telling what nasty little tricks the _Maxia _have up their sleeves."

Elliot was typing up reports on his laptop when he received a notification that he had unread emails. Irritated, he checked his inbox, finding, sent from an anonymous address, what seemed to be Intelligence on _Maxian _affairs. Checking the email for viruses and finding it completely clean, he finally opened it up, alarmed to find himself staring at tech readouts and blueprints for not only the ARK, but several other superweapons that the _Maxia _were producing, including what seemed to be a variation on the City Minecrawlers utilized by the Terminator Militia. Forwarding the documents to R&amp;D as well as to the _Ring_, hoping he could get the data to Alpha Company, he tracked the email address, finding that not only was it _Maxian _in origin, but it came from what seemed to be a high-ranking officer within the _Maxia_'s ranks.

"What in the actual hell...?" he began, stunned to find himself viewing such valuable Intelligence. Someone, an officer, within the _Maxia_'s ranks was defecting?

He received another email soon after, with an empty subject line, simply reading, "The Tartarus Unit are weak and insignificant. Do us all a favor. Destroy them and their petty machines of war."

'Necro', still hiding on the outskirts of the city, ensuring his invasion party avoided Terminator patrols, glanced at the email received from General Elliot, "Who are you?"

Chuckling to himself, he responded, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend...at least for awhile," before closing the laptop and repacking it, mounting Silver once again, "All right, gentlemen," he began, addressing his force, "Let's move out! EMP them, then get ready to move in for the kill. New Alexandria either falls to our hand today or we will die trying!"

As their artillery moved out of cover, firing a barrage of EMP bombs over the city, especially the forcefield generator, blacking out almost the entire expanse. "Let's do this, Silver," 'Necro' chuckled, and his mount rocketed forward, taking flight and darting forward at an incredible speed, surpassing the legendary dragonriders of the Terminator Militia, and possibly even able to match the speed of a fighter jet. As the electron field flickered out of existence, Silver rode towards the city, 'Necro' opening fire on the guards upon the walls with his assault rifle.

As Alex's spacecraft neared the ARK, he was surprised to find that there didn't seem to be any _Maxian _fighters out to resist them. He fired towards the superweapon, watching as the plasma rounds were deflected by an invisible forcefield. Not a second after he discovered the ARK's protection, a meteoroid was abruptly obliterated as it made contact with the forcefield, "Well, we can't go to it directly," the Commander began over the radio, "She's got a forcefield that will destroy anything that comes in contact with it."

"Hell we do?" Piermont asked.

"There's always a weakness."

Just then, they saw the ARK rotate in hover, several ports opened within its shell, and six small, glowing blue orbs dropped out from within, rocketing towards the circling Alpha Company. "Shit! We got something heading our way..." Tails began, "Watch yourselves guys! Get ready to take evasive action."

Alex arched into the air, pursing his lips in frustration when he saw that one of the projectiles had singled on his ship and were following him closely. "Heat seekers," he breathed, "Try to find a way to lose 'em..."

Again, he arched, this time firing his ship's weapons to find where the forcefield was, flying close to it and hoping the missile would impact. When it went through the forcefield, entirely unscathed, Alex, heart sinking, searched for another way to lose his pursuer.

"Well then!" he exclaimed, "Looks like the forcefield does nothing to them!"

Eventually, taking advantage of various flotsam and debris floating around the area, he was able to lose the missiles, only to find three more after him. "We don't stand a chance if we can't lose them!" Tails exclaimed, "Try to figure out something!"

As the projectiles nearly closed upon him, Alex holding his breath and squeezing his eyes shut, awaiting the imminent impact, he was alarmed when something exploded behind him, shaking the craft. Noticing he was still in flight, he peered behind him, in awe as the projectiles, now spiraling around wildly out of control, crashed into each other and surrounding debris.

"What the hell!?" he exclaimed.

"Alex! Look!" Piermont roared, and the Commander watched as the forcefield around the ARK flickered in and out of existence before completely dissolving.

Alex test fired towards the craft, jaw dropping as the rounds struck the exterior shell of the floating station, attempting to fire several more projectiles before they abruptly exploded soon after firing. "What's happening?" Tails asked, "Why is it malfunctioning all of a sudden?"

"I'm not sure..." Alex asked, puzzled. Grinning intently, he turned towards the ARK, heading directly for it. Doors mounted to the underside of the platform connecting all of the spider-like ARK's 'legs' slowly began to open, revealing the interior of the ship...

"She's firing!" Tails shouted, "What do we do!?"

"Going in," Alex replied, "Maybe I can fuck it up a bit."

"That's suicide, man!" Piermont growled, "Ain't no way in hell you're going in there!"

Alex shrugged, despite the fact no one was with him to see the gesture, "I know what I'm doing..." and he throttled up, closing in on the station as the cannon, emerging from within, began to charge.

"Commander," the captain aboard the _Ring _began over the radio, "We've received an email from Elliot...I think you are gonna like what he sent."

Suddenly, multiple images appeared on one of the spacecraft's computer screens, displaying the schematics and tech readouts for the ARK.

"Where'd we get this?" Piermont exclaimed, "What the hell is going on here?"

"Looks like sabotage," Cynder began, "Someone from the inside maybe."

"Wonder who our friend is," Alex said, closing in on the ARK, much larger than he originally thought, and climbing vertically into its belly. As he leveled off inside, finding himself in claustrophobic corridors between girders and supports, he went about navigating through the empty space, searching for a way to disarm the station. Finding that a core above him was too heavily defended to approach, he, instead, took a access down one of the 'legs' of the station, finding himself in another set of corridors between supports, creating a sort of tunnel around the entire perimeter of the ARK, connecting all of the legs. Here, he found what he was looking for. Each leg housed a reactor core that presumably contributed into powering the station, if he could destroy the cores...

"Alex, hope you got somethin' man!" Piermont scowled, "It's lookin' pretty bright out here..."

"I have an idea," he replied, circling through the tunnels, firing at the exposed cores and evading the autoturrets dogging him whenever he had a chance to.

Eventually, he managed to do enough damage to the cores to knock them offline, and with them out of action, he returned to the central piece of the station, the 'body' of the spider, where he had entered, housing the cannon and the final core.

"Right! Got my eyes on the prize!" Alex chuckled, firing relentlessly into the final core. Finally, it went offline, powering down the station, and Alex returned to where he had entered. The cannon had half-emerged before shutting down, and the doors were stuck open. For good measure, he fired into the wiring of the unfinished barrel, damaging it beyond repair.

"She's down..." Alex sighed, "Gonna have to try harder than that Mabao," and he chuckled.

As Alpha Company returned to the _Ring_, they received a frantic call of help from Elliot, "Vaughn! We got a problem!"

"What's up?" the Commander asked.

"Hermann-Reid are back, and they've got 'Necro' pulling the reins this time!"

"Shit!" he swore, "All right, we're on our way."

"Better fuckin' hurry boy! He EMP'd our asses and is ripping into us _big _time!"

Calling Alpha Company over to him, Alex quickly relayed the message to them as he climbed into their Hornet, the others behind him. Without so much as a goodbye to the men stationed on the _Ring_, the Hornet rocketed out of the hangar, heading back to Earth.


	21. Chapter XX: Déjà Vu

_**Chapter XX**_**:**

_**-**_**''****_Déjà Vu_''_-_**

**-Beneath Necropolis: Ruins of Washington, DC, Virginia-**

**-**_**27 October 2011**_**-**

**-**_**0935 Hours**_**-**

"WHAT THE HELL!?" Observer boomed, scouring through his computer. Earlier that day, he had been hacked, shut out of his system for several hours, and had an unknown amount of critical data stolen and deleted from his computer. When he was finally able to reconnect, he could only watch as he lost complete contact with the ARK.

Furious at the situation, an idea came to mind, and with a malicious grin, he set to work on his _own _devastating hack.

"You furry faggots think you can fuck with me? I'll make you pay for this!"

-**New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**27 October 2011**_**-**

**-**_**1004 Hours**_**-**

Alpha Company's Hornet leveled off just south of New Alexandria's walls. Alex's eyes widened as he saw hundreds if not thousands of enemy tanks storming the city, their attention not yet directed towards the arriving Alpha Company. "Elliot, what the _hell _is going on down here?" the Commander exclaimed, tapping his earpiece.

"Vaughn? What's the situation with the ARK?"

"It's out of commission," the Commander replied, "What's going on down here?"

"I told you," he spat, "The Hermann-Reid are back with a vengeance, and I hear that 'Necro' himself is _personally _overseeing the invasion, although we have yet to see him in action."

Just then, Alex, who had been staring out the window on the side of the ship, watched as a man clad in steel armor rode towards New Alexandria's walls on the back of an armored pegasus, sticking out against the black body armor of the rest of the _Maxia_'s men, "Uh...Elliot...I think I found 'Necro'..."

"What? Where is he?"

"Look for the knight in shining armor..."

"Sounds like 'Necro'," Elliot sighed, "Get down there, see if you can take him down."

As Alpha's Hornet lowered until it was hovering several feet above ground, firing on the surrounding invaders to cover their deployment, Alex led his unit and into whatever cover they could come across. Diving in a nearby crater, watching as a _Maxian _tank rolled over their position, narrowly missing running them over in the process, they moved forward, hijacking the weapons from a _Maxian _anti-armor crew, turning them against the tanks. Dodging the _Maxian _forces who had now been alerted to Alpha Company's presence, originally carving their way towards the walls, somehow holding out against the invading tanks, Spyro called out to his comrades, "Over there! It's 'Necro'! Up on the walls!"

'Necro', chuckling to himself, strolled across the ramparts, taking down any and all Terminator troops that crossed his path. They fired towards him, but what his armor didn't deflect, he could take without little damage. "You must try harder!" he laughed, charging across the walkway at an almost supernatural speed, slamming into a group of surprised soldiers, effortlessly gunning them down or sending them plummeting to their deaths over the ledge.

His assault rifle running out of ammunition, he tossed the weapon aside, withdrawing his sheathed swords, and charged towards another group of enemy soldiers, dodging their attacks with eerie agility and countering with lethal blows from his sword. Cutting down another wave of defenders, he continued his march across the ramparts, heading towards the gatehouse, nearly oblivious of the bullets whizzing around him.

He suddenly stopped in mid-stroll, face contorting into a grimace as he growled beneath his breath, sensing the arrival of Alpha Company. He turned to his right, looking out over the crowd, and with a grisly chuckle, he called out to the approaching Commander, _So...we finally get a chance to meet face-to-face...I will relish in your destruction!_

"'Necro'!" Alex roared, preparing to shoot towards the armored knight. Before he could get a shot off, however, he heard an arrogant, female voice behind him start laughing.

"So, the legendary Great Commander of the Terminator Militia decides to take us on directly, huh? Heh...I hope you're ready to get beat!"

Before he had a chance to turn around to face the source, Silver slammed into him from behind, launching him into the air and dropping him onto the ramparts. Falling thirty feet, he landed atop the walls, stunned as his various injuries began to heal. Picking himself up, sparks dancing across his body, he looked up to find 'Necro' charging into him, sending him flying back, sliding across the ground. With a heavy chuckle, 'Necro' began, stomping towards him, "For such an experienced veteran, you sure have room for improvement!"

Alex picked himself up, dazed once again, recovering just as 'Necro', swords at the ready, sprinted over to him. The Commander evaded the charge, withdrawing his own twin swords and slashing towards the _Maxian _general, parrying his attack. "Perhaps I misjudged your skill," he said, quickly rolling out of the way of another dash from Alex, countering with a swipe towards the boy, "But you are still no match for me!"

"Incoming!" Silver bellowed, laughing wildly, and Alex was once more attacked from behind as the pegasus charged into him, knocking him to the side, "What's wrong?" she taunted, "Too quick for ya?"

As she commenced another charge towards him, Alex rolled out of the way of the attack, nearly finding himself decapitated by a downward slash from 'Necro''s blade. Alex grabbed onto 'Necro''s hand, summing as much of his strength as possible to stop the man's attack. Silver attempted another charge, but just as she was about to hit him, a familiar voice called out, "Hey, Bitch! Over here!"

"Huh?" Silver began, but not before she was knocked aside by Cynder. The two tangled wings as Silver tried to impale the she-dragon on her ivory horn, the female dragon countering by snapping towards her, "What's wrong?" Silver laughed, "What's so special about this guy?"

Cynder dodged another attack by the pegasus, closing her jaws around one of the beast's wings, mangling it, and they spiraled in the air before the she-dragon slammed the pegasus into the ground.

From the _Ring's _control center, one of the operators noticed the weapon didn't seem to be responding. He tapped away at his terminal, trying to run diagnostics until an error flashed on screen, and he, with an alarmed gasp, watched as they were locked out of the systems. "What the hell?" he began, just as the control center blacked out. When the backup power came on, he watched, horrified, as the _Ring _commenced firing.

"What's going on?" the station's captain ordered, marching across the room.

"Sir! We've lost all contact with the _Ring_, she's stopped responding, sir!"

"Who ordered the firing?"

"Nobody, sir...not from here..."

Elliot was busying himself evacuating civilians underground as the battle raged outside the walls, threatening to break through again, when his radio buzzed and he took the call. "Sir," the _Ring_'s captain began, "The _Ring _has stopped responding to our commands and she has begun to fire!"

"_What_!?"

"What is the state of our mountain-based command center?"

"It's still in friendly territory...the hell do you _mean _the _Ring _has stopped responding! Who ordered the firing?"

"Nobody here, sir."

"Find the source of the order and string the sonuvabitch responsible up!"

"Sir..." the captain began, voice suddenly grim, "We've found the source of the command..."

"And...?"

"A bunker beneath the ruins of Washington DC. Sir, we've been hacked."

Alex and 'Necro' continued their deadly dance, with the Commander finding himself slowly becoming overwhelmed by the highly trained former SEAL's attacks. Although he was able to avoid or parry 'Necro''s blows, he was unable to successfully counter with his own, and his heart sank at the realization that the _Maxian_ general's abilities matched if not exceeded his own. Having been trained by one of the greatest swordsmen in the world during his time in the Gothics, Alex was stunned at this realization, especially once he began to succumb to exhaustion, his opponent's stamina never seeming to be able to run out.

"What's wrong, Commander Vaughn?" 'Necro' chuckled, picking up Alex by the throat and tossing him across the ramparts, "Getting tired?"

Alex picked himself up, trying to catch his breath when 'Necro' was immediately on top of him again. The general commenced a series of rapid attacks against him, Alex dodging these, completely depleting his stamina and breaking his block. As he collapsed to the ground, at the limits of his strength, 'Necro' approached him again. The world creaked and groaned beneath them, and with a stunned look on the Commander's face, the walls collapsed beneath him, Alex falling through to the ground below. Healing his wounds, he crawled back towards where Alpha Company was currently engaged with a large cluster of _Maxian _soldiers near the gate into the inner walls. 'Necro' hopped down to the ground, chuckling as he approached Alex again. A very alien, deafening hum of machinery filled the Commander's ears, and even 'Necro' stopped in his tracks, eyes turning to the sky, the source of the sound. For several minutes of shock and awe, Alex, 'Necro', the Terminator defenders, and the _Maxian_ soldiers all paused the battle to look towards the skies.

The _Ring _slowly began to inch in position, and Alex tapped his earpiece, out of breath, "What's going on? Who ordered the firing of the _Ring_?"

"Vaughn! We've been hacked!" Elliot roared, "Our guys have lost all contact with the weapon, and all we know is that she's targeting New Alexandria!"

"_What_!?" Alex roared, "Who hacked us?"

"Someone beneath the ruins of DC, likely the same city you boys ran into during the Southern March!"

With an animalian roar, Alex pounced upon 'Necro', "YOU _BASTARD_! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR _FRIGGIN'_ MIND!"

'Necro' grinned, "I am many things, Commander Vaughn. Insane is not one of them."

"You are firing the _Ring _on your own men!"

'Necro''s mad grin rapidly dissolved into a somber look of horror and fury, "What do you mean?"

"You know _EXACTLY_ what I mean!" Alex roared, "You hacked the _Ring _and ordered an attack on your own men just to kill us? What happened to the 'kill the Terminators without taking unnecessary damage' bullshit?"

With a furious roar, 'Necro' kneed Alex in the chest, throwing the Commander aside as he stormed away, telepathically summoning Silver to him and tapping his earpiece, "President Mabao, where is the Tartarus Unit?"

"Where are you going!?" Alex roared, stumbling towards the general.

'Necro' turned to face him, smiling grimly, "We'll have to finish this at a different time," and he swung himself over Silver, saying, "I have no doubts the Tartarus Unit are behind this..." and with a final goodbye, he rocketed forward, disappearing over the horizon.

With the _Ring _charging in the skies above, Alpha Company continued their push into New Alexandria, trying to drive out the _Maxia_, who had managed to punch through the outer perimeter walls and set up positions within the southern Agricultural District.

"Sir!" one of Elliot's men cried out to him, "We cannot stop the _Ring_'s firing! It's too late!"

Elliot and a small Gamma Company squad, following news of the _Ring _hack, had dropped everything to hurry to Area 18, a little-known base located inside of the mountain range west of New Alexandria, with the hopes of being able to regain control of or at least disarm the superweapon.

"Try to reroute the weapon to somewhere else then!" he scowled, "We cannot let it fire on the city!"

"Elliot, you there, over?" Alex called to him, and he answered.

"What do you want, Vaughn?"

"I don't think 'Necro' is responsible for this..."

"No shit," Elliot growled, "Five bucks the Tartarus Unit is...they and 'Necro' seem to have been fucking with each other since the _Maxia _formed."

"What do you mean?"

"We're hearing that 'Necro' is the one who leaked the ARK's docs to us, odds are to fuck with the Tartarus Unit, who are behind its construction...'Necro' and the T.U don't get along...at all according to Intel we've been collecting. I've been doing some math, put two and two together. Betcha they think _we _hacked their computers and hacked the _Ring _as repayment."

"Anything we can do?"

"Workin' on it. Unfortunately, she's too far in to disarm...we still _might _be able to reroute ts coordinates."

"Do whatever you can...but don't let it fire here!"

"Don't need to tell me this shit, Vaughn, you just work on taking out 'Necro'!"

"He got away..."

"Then hunt the little cunt down! Don't let him escape!"

Quickly mounting Piermont, Alex and his dragon took to the burning, smoky skies above New Alexandria, heading towards the direction where 'Necro' and Silver had fled, searching for the duo. Spyro and Cynder joined them in mid-flight, with the former informing Alex that the rest of Alpha Company was pulling further back into New Alexandria, digging in with the hopes of keeping the _Maxia _out of the city proper, with talks of blowing the bridges connecting the mainland with the island upon which the city sat.

_Just don't know when to give up, do you? _'Necro' thought out to Alex, _Even when we have much more important things to worry about... _and Silver appeared out of nowhere, ramming into Piermont's side and knocking Alex off. The Commander free fell towards the ground, Cynder hurrying to catch him. Silver beat the dragon to him, ramming into Alex repeatedly, easing his fall, but battering him relentlessly in the process. She commenced her final flyby, 'Necro' grabbing Alex in mid-fall and slamming him into the cracked ground beneath them.

General 'Necro' leaped off of Silver, landing in a kneeling position upon the ground. Standing upright, he withdrew his swords again, heading towards the Commander, currently recovering from the hard landing.

"Get up, you fool!" 'Necro' roared, "Show some honor!" and he tossed one of his swords to the Commander, "Don't just surrender! _FIGHT_!"

Reaching for the discarded sword, Alex picked himself up, bracing himself for a lunge from the _Maxian _general. Spyro and Cynder appeared to try and attack 'Necro', but not before Silver made quick work with Alex's support, first using her superior agility to evade and ground Piermont, then purposely luring the two Realm dragons into concentrating on her, "What's the point in all of this?" Alex asked, "What's the point in this war? We are hurting no one! Look at the _real _enemy! Look at Mabao, the one who _declared _war in the first place! Look at the Tartarus Unit, all that they've done!"

"I follow the orders I am given...and regardless of whether you are actively or even knowingly hurting someone, your stranglehold over this nation's inner workings needs to be relieved. Even if not blatantly obvious, the people are suffering from your totalitarian influence!"

"But is this really right? We were allies! The Terminator Militia has never opposed the United States or her people! This war is unnecessary! Truly _you _can see through Mabao's corruption!"

"I can..." 'Necro' replied, still wearing a furious expression, "But I have other, personal reasons to be fighting..." and he charged towards Alex, "I need to free Lucy!"

Alex dodged the attack, slashing towards 'Necro', who locked his sword with the Commander's. Alex broke free of the lock, trying to get the advantage over the general. However, he was far too strong and too fast for the Commander, enduring the fight longer without showing any obvious signs of exhaustion.

While he regained his stamina, Alex, evading 'Necro''s attacks, managed, "There are other ways we can resolve this! We don't need to fight!"

With the _Ring _almost in position, Elliot had all but given up. They were down to the wire for preventing the attack on New Alexandria, and no matter how hard they tried, they were still locked out of the system, being unable to change anything. Whatever the hacker had done to lock them out was extremely effective, and extremely advanced, forcing the general to wonder whether or not the Tartarus Unit _really _had the capability to do such a thing.

Eventually, they managed to regain _some _control over the _Ring's _operations. With the little leeway they had managed to wrestle from the hacker, Elliot managed to change the _Ring's _target coordinates at the last minute, although he was unable to adjust the A.O.E. With nothing else that could be done, Elliot watched from an onboard camera as the _Ring _fired, although instead of striking New Alexandria, as was intended, it fired horizontally, ripping through the ARK, decimating it in the process, and smashing through the opposite side of the weapon, obliterating nearly a fifth of its expanse. Alarms blared all around the place as the thrusters along the _Ring_'s exterior immediately began to fire off to try and stabilize the _Ring_, knocked out of its tender alignment by the force of impact.

Elliot then began dispatching crews, risking complications from the encircling Hermann-Reid, to space, hoping they could avert the crisis of the unbalanced _Ring _before the thrusters desperately trying to correct the alignment, already damaged and operating at minimum capacity following both the impact of the direct blast _and_ the damage the blast had done to the weapon itself, ran out of fuel, causing either the _Ring_'s or the earth's rotation to knock the two together, potentially having disastrous, apocalyptic results. Elliot cringed as remnants of the ARK and evaporated portions of the _Ring_ collided with the devastatingly damaged and disastrously destabilized remnant of the superweapon, threatening to knock it even _more _out of alignment.

Alex and 'Necro' paused in their dual long enough to watch as the _Ring _fired through the ARK and onto itself, incinerating a massive chunk of the structure. The LEDs immediately went to the 'dead red' state, and, at first, Alex was relieved that the blast on New Alexandria had been averted, before he realized, with dawning horror, the extent of the damage the attack had done on the weapon itself. Once the shock of the firing had worn off, 'Necro' charged at him again with a furious war cry, Alex narrowly avoiding the attack. Although the general's blade did not make contact, Alex was knocked to the ground by the charging _Maxian _officer. As Alex was about to be executed by 'Necro', Spyro appeared out of nowhere, smashing into the _Maxian _general and sending them both flying into the distance.

Cynder landed beside Alex, nodding for him to mount, "We need to get back to New Alexandria...Alpha's having a hard time with the _Maxia_."

"Where's Piermont?"

"He's already there."

"And Spyro? What are we to do with him?"

"He's a big boy, he can take care of himself," and as Alex climbed onto her, she called to him, "Hold on!" before launching forward, heading back to the city. There, they found the situation was much worse than originally thought. Alpha Company had been encircled and splintered throughout the southern Business District of the city proper by the Hermann-Reid, rapidly advancing into New Alexandria, even stronger now that the threat of the _Ring_ was neutralized.

'Necro' picked himself up off the ground, brushing the dust off his armor as he looked down at his feet. A dazed Spyro stood in place, having hit the ground hard during his attack on the _Maxian _general. As Spyro began to recover, picking himself up, 'Necro' stomped on his head, knocking him unconscious, tossing a green smoke grenade to signal an L.Z. Once his helicopter arrived, he tossed Spyro into the machine, climbing in himself and tapping his earpiece, "Mabao, I've got a plan...we're pulling out of New Alexandria."

"Is the city ours?"

"Negative...but I've got something...much better..." and he chuckled, turning to face the unconscious dragon with a wide grin. Turning to face the helicopter's pilot, 'Necro' ordered, "Head back to the city, there's some last minute things we need to do before we move out."

As the helicopter neared the city, 'Necro' took up a position on one of the side-mounted mini-guns, firing towards the defenders below. The bridge connecting the southern Agricultural District with the southern Business District was a heavy battleground between friendly and enemy forces. On their advance to the city, the helicopter commenced a strafing run, clearing out Terminator troops on the bridge and paving the way for the _Maxia_'s advance, and as the _Maxian _troops marched across the bridge, rushing into the city to meet with the first line of defenders at the city-side mouth of the bridge, the helicopter rose higher, heading towards one of the buildings housing a mainframe that controlled the militia's stockpile of deadly Nova missiles, a type of nerve gas.

The helicopter hovered just over a helipad on the roof of the building, 'Necro' gunning down the soldiers meeting him as he strolled into the office building, forcing a group of Elites that had accompanied him to stand guard as he hacked into the database, obtaining the launch codes for the missiles. On his way back to the waiting helicopter, he was ambushed by Cynder, grabbing her out of the air and throwing her aside, climbing into the helicopter and signaling takeoff. Cynder, recovering from the blow, took wing and pursued him, attempting to catch up to the helicopter. 'Necro' remained on the machine's mini-gun, driving her off, and he roared, "Keep moving! We need to get this bitch off our tail!"

_Alex! _Cynder cried, _I need help! 'Necro''s back!_

Taking out the _Maxian _sniper taunting a small group of Gamma Company troops, Alex mounted Piermont, ordering the dragon to take to the skies. Cynder telepathically guided them to where she was, and when they finally found 'Necro''s escape helicopter, successfully repelling Cynder, Piermont joined the fight, opening his great maw and spewing a jet of fire towards the machine.

_I wouldn't do that, if I were you..._ 'Necro' thought to them, _You wouldn't want to hurt your friend, Commander Spyro here, now would you?_

"HE'S GOT SPYRO!" Cynder howled, her rage taking over. She raced over to the helicopter before swiftly being brought down by several scathing shots to her wings from the mini-gun. Piermont tried next, hanging low, trying to stay out of range of the mini-gun. Once beneath the machine, he rammed into its base, hoping to disorient its passengers, similar to their tactics against the Tartarus Unit's attack helicopter during the _Maxia_'s first assault on New Alexandria. When Piermont, too, was shot down by the gunship, Alex leaped from his mount, grabbing onto the skids and pulling himself up.

He threw open the side doors, ready to pounce into the vehicle, not expecting to find 'Necro' already standing there, shotgun pointed at him. "You know, Commander," he began, "I'm actually surprised. You are more impressive than I originally anticipated. It's a shame that you are the enemy."

Alex charged towards him, but not before 'Necro' smacked him with the button of the shotgun, kicking the Commander back out the side of the gunship. As Alex began to fall to the ground, 'Necro' reached out and grabbed his leg, holding him over a two hundred foot drop, "What...is the point in this war!?" Alex managed, legitimately frightened and out of breath, "What did...we ever do...to the US?"

'Necro' frowned, before letting go of the Commander, above the river surrounding the inner city, watching as he splashed down into the water before going back into the helicopter and slamming the door shut. With a sigh, he took a seat down at one of the machine, staring, in silence, at the unconscious Alpha Company and High Command member sitting across from them. He ordered a retreat with his men in the city before turning to face his pilot, saying, "Let's get back to New Alexandria, it's time for a nice chat with President Mabao."

"We'll he be angry we didn't take the city?"

"No," 'Necro' replied with a mad grin, "In fact...I think he will be more impressed with what we _did _manage to accomplish."

Alex climbed out of the river and onto the banks of the inner city, collapsing on his back upon the concrete 'beach' and breathing heavily, eyes burning and exhausted. Above him, in the smoky, deep maroon skies, he watched as _Maxian _bombers and gunships began to retreat, and once more Alex, smirking, wondered why they had decided to withdraw after coming so close to success.

The rest of Alpha Company, calling his name, ran over to where he lay, with Cynder and Piermont at the head of the crowd. The female dragon, near-tears, knelt before him, hugging him tightly and kissing him repeatedly, "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Fine," he replied, groaning as he sat up, "Enough anyway...can we...never do that again?"

"Where's Spearow?" Piermont asked.

"'Necro' got him..." Alex sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, "I couldn't...I couldn't get him back."

"We'll find him," Simba replied, "Just you wait, we'll find him."

"I'm sorry, Cynder..." Alex said, hugging the trembing she-dragon.

"Don't be," she replied, "It's not your fault..."

"I let him down...I let _you _down..."

"You tried your best, man," Piermont replied, "Don't worry...we'll find him."

"If Mabao gets a hold of him again..." the Commander began, with a shake of the head, standing up with Piermont's and Cheet's assistance, "It will not be a fun time. Spyro could barely handle Mabao's torture the _first _time around, and he had _me _there to help him through it. Alone? Who _knows _what that bastard is capable of..."

"Am I the _only _one that's gonna notice the pink elephant in the room?" Crash asked, "How the _hell_ were the _Maxia _able to hijack the _Ring_, who did it, and if they were able to hack one of the highest level securities on Planet Earth, what _else _are they capable of!?

"I don't know..." Alex replied grimly, "But I'm afraid that the war is just beginning..."


	22. Chapter XXI: Nova

_**Chapter XXI**_**:**

**-''Nova''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**27 October 2011**_**-**

**-**_**2000 Hours**__-_

"Find out where 'Necro' went!" Alex roared, stomping into New Alexandria's command center, "Look everywhere for Spyro!"

"We're already looking for him," Elliot began, face buried in a computer, "But if there's one thing I can say about the bastard, it's that 'Necro' knows how to play hide and seek. We can only assume he returned to that city you guys saw over the ruins of DC, what the _Maxia _call the Necropolis, but we're not positive."

"'Necro' made off with Spyro," Alex growled, "We need to get him back before he falls under Mabao's possession again!"

"What?" Elliot started, wearing a smirk, "You don't think your wing-second is capable of surviving a few days with Mabao?"

"He had a hard time dealing with the torture the _first _time!"

"Well...obviously...it's _torture_, anyway, we're looking the best we can."

"Sorry to change the topic," Piermont interrupted, "But how's the status on the _Ring_?"

"We've shut it down," Elliot began, "But she's stable...for not, we're outta the path of danger, for now anyway."

"Anyway," Alex continued, "We need to find Spyro, and soon. Mabao's probably furious we got away _last _time, I can only imagine what he'll put Spyro through _this _time as punishment."

"You think Mabao will kill him?" Cynder asked, concerned.

Alex shook his head, "Not immediately, no. Spyro's too important an asset for Mabao to destroy so soon...he'll milk everything he can first. Both Mabao_ and _'Necro' are smart enough to see that...I just hope to God he doesn't let the Tartarus Unit near Spyro...that won't end well for either party."

"I'm sure both Mabao and 'Necro' are smart enough to realize that putting them in the same room is a bad idea...they ain't stupid, far from it," Piermont sighed, "Anyway, we'll find 'em...and I have faith that Spearow can handle 'em, at least for awhile."

"Hope you're right, Pierre..."

"You doubt his ability, Vaughn?" Elliot smirked, "I thought you had faith he could handle pressure, which is why you made him your second in the _first _place!"

"Yeah?" Alex snarled, looking up, "Doesn't keep me from worrying though...what if I was wrong? I don't think I was...but you never know..." and he threw his arms out, "I've been wrong many times before..."

"Don't worry, he'll be fine..." Elliot nodded, "Have a little faith, huh? If not with our boys finding him, then at least him. You chose wisely, he'll get through this, I know he will."

"I hope you're right, Elliot."

"Alex, I've been in the army for many, many, _many _years. I've seen people come and go...I know a good soldier when I see one...you picked wisely, he'll make it."

"Sir, we've got a problem..." a voice rang out, and everyone in the room turned to watch as a corporal rushed in.

"Thanks Captain Obvious," Piermont growled, "It's not like we just got done dealing with the friggin' _Maxia_ or anything..."

"No...it's...there's something else..." and he nodded towards Elliot, "We have several silos opening throughout the city..."

"How!?" Elliot spat, "Most of our shit got fried by the EMP they fired at us...what's going on?"

"I don't know..." but he was shoved out of the way by Elliot, barreling outside. Alpha Company ran after him, finding the general standing just outside the door, staring up at the sky, fearful look in the experienced vet's eyes. "Vaughn..." he began in a grim voice, "We've got a _big _problem..."

"What's wrong?" Alex asked, turning to face the east, where Elliot was staring off towards. Gasping, his jaw dropping, the rest of Alpha Company gathered around him as they all stared towards the east, where they could make out a pinprick of light shooting from the mountains, approaching the city.

"GET THE HAZMAT SUITS!" Elliot roared, racing back into the command center, "Seal off the windows and doors! DO NOT open them under ANY circumstances! Vaughn! Make sure you guys get hazmat suits on! I've got to warn the others!" as Elliot ran off, Alpha Company followed the crowd of soldiers to the armory, where they all quickly threw on hazmat suits and gas masks. Outside the building, the missiles struck the city at several points, filling the world in a deadly golden cloud...nerve gas.

"How'd the _Maxia _access our Nova 6 supply?" Alex growled, stomping into the main room of the facility, where every soldier within was finishing suiting up. Through the windows, they all watched as the golden mist blocked out all view of the outside world.

"Damn it!" Elliot swore, "I don't know how many people are gonna be effected by this..."

"We need to get someone out there," Cynder began, "I wouldn't doubt if 'Necro' or Mabao use this as a cover for a counterattack."

"It would definitely explain why they pulled back so early..." Alex sighed, "Alpha'll go. Just make sure you don't get shot out there..."

"Wait! Vaughn! We'll send other troops out there to investigate, _you _need to get underground!"

"Fuck that," Alex snapped, "I want answers...if I can capture a few sorry _Maxian _sons of bitches, betcha at the threat of being exposed to one of the deadliest nerve agents on the planet, they'll be more than willing to answer."

"Vaughn!" Elliot roared, but Alex had already descended into the basement of the command center, taking the back way out of the facility, the rest of Alpha beside him.

Thankfully, the gas wasn't very thick out in this particular section, so there was some visibility, and as long as they didn't keep opening the basement door, there was little risk of the gas spilling out into the command center. Alpha proceeded to move through the eerily empty city streets, those that had been unable to get inside before the bombs fell were already laying dead on the ground.

"Don't transform," Alex warned Piermont, "We need to find some transportation...look for a tank, or a jeep, or somethin'."

Elliot interrupted, voice grim, "How's it look out there."

"I see a lotta casualties...too many to count."

"Jesus...what's our course of action?"

"We're making our way to the south where we last saw 'Necro' run...any word from the _Ring_?"

"Negative, communication is still a little sketchy from the EMP earlier. Short-distance communication is easy enough, since our radios are protected from EMP, but long-distance comms is some seriously touchy bullshit."

Hijacking several jeeps, Alpha Company made its way to the southern ramparts. Shortly before their arrival, Elliot contacted them.

"Received word from the _Ring_...looks like you were right, we got a small force of unknown armor approaching the city from the south, looks like 'Necro''s back with the Hermann-Reid."

"We're at the gate, we'll hold them off," Alex replied.

"Exterior or interior wall?"

"Exterior."

"Roger, sending backup your way...the gas is clearing out a little bit, looks like."

As soon as the first line of tanks were within range, Alex and his unit, having manned the triple A guns lining the ramparts, began to fire on the advancing machines. It seemed that the majority of the Hermann-Reid, 'Necro' included, had returned to wherever they had come from, as the force they were facing now seemed to be sent in for little more than as a cleanup crew. For an hour, Alpha Company held the gates, destroying any machine that approached them. With the gas having entirely thinned out from the area, the _Commander_'s _Wing_, sans the Commander himself, were able to return to their natural forms and flame any machines that managed to break through the line of fire. When reinforcements arrived, taking over the guns, Alpha Company retreated back down the walls, charging into the Burned Lands and engaging the _Maxian _forces directly. Compared to the last two encounters with the Hermann-Reid, this one was a pushover. At most, they were dealing with around two hundred tanks, with double that number on the infantry side.

Eventually, after carving through a large number of the _Maxian_ forces, the Hermann-Reid began to go on the retreat once again. Refusing to let them get away, both Alpha Company and their allies took whatever tanks they could find around the remains of the staging yard, pursuing the _Maxia _through the Burned Lands, firing relentlessly into the rear, crossing out of the Burned Lands and into the forests of a nearby mountain range. Eventually, it became too dark to see the fleeing troops, and ensuring they didn't come back, the Terminator forces returned to New Alexandria, finding the gas having let up completely, giving them full sight of the carnage the deadly nerve agent had wrecked upon them.

"Dunno about you..." Elliot began with a frown, joining them in the southern Agricultural District, "But I vote we get rid of these fuckin' missiles...to avoid somethin' like this from happening again."

"Couldn't agree with you more..." Alex sighed.

"Did you find anything on Spyro?" the general added.

Alex shook his head, "No, unfortunately. 'Necro' wasn't here this time."

"Course he wasn't, little rat bastard's afraid of the _real _action!"

"He sure wasn't afraid when he terrorized our boys on the ramparts," Cynder remarked, approaching them.

"Probably cause he had the whole goddamn Hermann-Reid givin' him support!" Elliot roared, "Without 'em, he's like every other cowardly sonuvabitch I've had the displeasure of running into...I honestly expected more from such a legendary war hero as himself."

"I'm trying to figure out where his frame of mine lies," Alex suddenly began, lost in thought, "He's a peculiar one...shockingly merciful compared to other guys we've had to fight in the past...it almost makes me wonder if he's_ reluctantly _continuing this war."

"Doubt it," Piermont scoffed, "He's in bed with the _Maxia_, he deserves the _EXACT _same fate as those cocksuckers! I don't care _what _his motive for doing so is, he's still the enemy, he'll be treated as such..." and the Martaanean Forest Dragon, taking to the skies, rocketed forward, surrounding Alpha and Elliot in a plume of dust.

With Elliot straddling over to the now-open gates leading out into the Burned Lands, and Alpha Company dispersing, Alex soon was the only one remaining, looking up to the smoky skies, _What's going on in your head, 'Necro'? _he thought to himself.


	23. Chapter XXII: The Sum of All Fear

_**Chapter XXII**_**:**

**-''The Sum of All Fear''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**11 November 2011**_**-**

**-**_**0819 Hours**_**-**

Alex stood upon the lonely, white, granite balcony, looking into the distance...into the northern _Fiernes Curtain_ that divided the American and Canadian border, looking out over the hellhole that was the Burned Lands. The massive wall of dragonfire, miles tall, was visible from anywhere in North America, and illuminated the horizon in a reddish-orange glow. They were mere miles from the northern sector, and the wall, appearing as if it was a stationery waterfall of lava, always captivated the members of Alpha Company, Alex especially.

Above, the dark skies were tinted maroon, caused by the smoke rising from the ever-burning debris. Even now, Alex could see the Ring, a black ribbon across the skies, dotted by massive LEDs that marked how prepared to fire the ring was. The row of lights was currently yellow, marking the ring as in a 'standby' phase. Sighing deeply, Alex heard the French doors opening, and his second-in-command stepped forward, standing by Alex's side.

"What are you doing, Commander?"

"What I always do, Spyro."

"Staring blankly out at the Burned Lands."

"Precisely."

The purple dragon shook his head, "Jesus, man. What the hell is up between you and fire?"

Alex shrugged, "Maybe that's why I'm a master Pyromancer."

"Either way, as much as I hate to break you apart from the object of your strange affection, Elliot called us."

"Dammit."

"My reaction exactly."

"When is he expecting our arrival?" Alex asked his friend and companion.

"ASAP...something about his attitude here also raised some suspicions."

"Really? Why?"

Spyro shook his head, "I don't know, he just seemed really excited for some reason."

"Odd, that's quite unlike old Elliot."

"I agree completely." Spyro turned to leave, but abruptly turned back as he said, "Oh! And he told me to tell you that '_Operation: Armageddon_' is finally ready to commence."

This stunned the Commander, and Spyro noticed.

"What? What did I say?"

"Really? He said that?"

"Yeah...why? What is _Operation: Armageddon_?"

"An idea I had decided to establish shortly after the _Maxia_ Regime took over."

"And you didn't share this, why?"

"It seemed more like a dream to me. I knew it would take several years if there was a chance of it being enacted. It requires the full cooperation of every single member of the Terminators."

"What!? You mean, our billions-strong force against the _Maxia_, all in a single confrontation?"

"Precisely."

"Well, why in the hell didn't you share this little detail with everyone?"

"It didn't concern you at the time. I planned on telling you when the time came to enact it, but because of the extremely risky chance of success, I didn't want to raise your hopes, only to bring them to a crashing halt if an issue came up and we had to scrap the plan. The fact that the wait was so brief is...miraculous...to say the very least."

"Really?"

"Aye."

"Great, can't wait for this meeting. It's about time we throw "Necro" and his troops off their high horses."

"Okay, you better have a damn good reason for dragging us out here, Elliot. We just got back from our last battle at Los Angeles, and I'm really not ready for another mission," the Commander's dragon Piermont-in his human form-said, emerging from his room in the massive suite shared by all of Alpha Company.

"Lucky for you," Elliot began, "I actually have a mission that you will love."

"Oh! Wonderful! That makes me so excited," he said this with heavy sarcasm.

"It should."

"You haven't even shared any details."

"I will, patience, Pierre, we must wait for the others."

"Why aren't we meeting in the conference room, like we normally do?" Cheet asked.

"You'll see."

"Why am I suspicious all of a sudden?"

"I don't know. Why are you, Lieutenant?"

"Seriously, what's with the cryptic descriptions?" Cherub asked.

"Elliot has his reasons," Cynder replied.

"You're damn right I do! Besides, I'm under orders."

"Really? General Robert E. Elliot, following orders? By who?" Piermont muttered.

"Great Commander Alex Vaughn, dumbass."

"What?" now Piermont was genuinely impressed, "You are actually following orders from Alex? What's so important about this mission that you feel obligated to follow orders?"

"I need Alex's consent to share my information."

"What? Why? Dude, we are Alpha Company! Hell, Spyro, Cynder, and myself are the fucking High Command! We damn near have an equal rank to Alex, why can't we even know?" Piermont was astonished by Alex's lack of faith and trust in his own friends and allies, and Elliot's sudden stubbornness.

"For protection, and to keep hopes from being raised, I imagine. What we have is something that could very easily decide the fate of the militia, and the fate of this damned war."

"So he couldn't even trust his own friends to keep the secret?"

"I understand," Cherub said.

Piermont gawked at his mate, surprised, "What? Why? How?"

"If it really is something that is this important, he might want to protect it."

"So why doesn't he trust us?"

"I'm guessing that he was afraid of someone overhearing...or if one of us is captured, tortured, beaten ruthlessly until we break-"

"Like Washington DC's underground prison?" Spyro added, suddenly appearing, his voice full of dread at the nightmarish memory.

"Exactly..." Cherub continued, "Although we probably wouldn't. It is amazing what someone would do if it ensures safety, or cease of torture."

Cynder shrugged, "It makes sense to me, too."

Piermont then shot Spyro a double-take as he noticed the dragon's discomfort, "What are you hiding, Spyro?" the forest dragon said, his voice laced with malice and suspicion.

"What are you talking about?" the purple dragon asked.

Instantly, Spyro felt the powerful, mental force of Piermont tearing through his mental defenses, trying to reveal whatever secret the purple dragon was hiding. He silently cursed the mutual mental bank that enabled shared minds and telepathic conversations, as well as shared pain, and sharing of strong emotions such as passion, fury, derision, and depression. Relying on what Alex had taught him, Spyro retreated into the depths of his mind, enclosing it in an impenetrable steel wall. Piermont attacked the steel walls multiple times, each attack more powerful than the last, but Spyro easily defended the walls, and he felt little more than taps. Furious, Piermont finally withdrew, and Spyro, adopting a cocky tone, asked, "Are you finished now?"

Piermont growled, "Shut up."

"Are we all finished?" Elliot asked, annoyed at the interruption.

"I'd assume so," Spyro replied, sending a vicious glance at Piermont, who only ignored the purple dragon.

"Very well then! Ah! And here comes the Commander himself."

Alex led his troops through the city, although puzzled, they followed his directions, and eventually, they ended up at an old, rundown, long-abandoned warehouse. Alex unlocked the door and led his troops inside. Locking and bolting the door, Alex led them downstairs, into New Alexandria's labyrinthine Underground, composed entirely of metal catwalks, steamy corridors, furnaces, boilers, and power lines. For over an hour, he led them through the endless corridors before finally arriving at his destination, a small, steel door set into the wall. Unlocking the door, Alex entered, his troops behind, and he closed and triple-bolted the door. Groping around in the dark, the Commander found the light switch and flipped it, and Alpha Company was stunned speechless to see a massive war room.

In the heart of the room was a massive diorama, a map of a massive, walled city which Piermont assumed to be New Alexandria, but the landscape was different, flat, grassy, and barren compared to the mountainous, charred, baked landscape that encircled and protected the jewel of the Terminator Militia, and this confused him. Spyro and Cynder approached the map, and they noticed that tiny, narrow trenches had been carved into the platform, snaking in and around the city. Every three or four inches of the trenches was marked with a single, blue flag. Wooden blocks were arranged in a neat circle, surrounding the city, and these were also marked with blue flags. Within the city, red flags covered the blocky buildings, and marked every foot of the walls.

"What is this?" Spyro asked, amazed by the strange diorama.

"The Necropolis, formerly known as Washington DC before we destroyed it back at the dawn of the war."

"Necropolis?"

"Aye, "Necro"'s capital."

"What is it for?"

"_Operation: Armageddon_, the full-scale invasion and annihilation of the capital, and the _Maxia _

Regime."

"_Operation: Armageddon_? Why weren't we ever informed?" Piermont's awestruck tone adopted the menacing, angry one used against Spyro earlier.

"I needed it to be entirely secret, only Elliot and myself knew."

"When did you create this?"

"Shortly after we destroyed DC and noticed that there was a spike in activity there. Periodically, about every month, I received intelligence from atmospheric aircraft-and later the Ring-containing photographs of this."

"What do all these flags mean?" Spyro asked.

"Blue marks our forces, and our territory, the trenches are subterranean, and Red marks the _Maxia_ forces and territory. The wooden blocks and arrows symbolize our forces...tanks and whatnot...and their routes of advance. The bricks against each wall of Necropolis symbolize the four primary forcefield generators, and the tower in the heart is, obviously, the receiver for the generators."

"And the ramparts?"

"Cannons, anti-armor, anti-aircraft, and the like embedded within the perimeter walls."

"How will you pull this off?" Piermont asked, that awestruck tone returning.

"The full cooperation of every individual of the Terminator Militia: soldier, representative, loyalist, sympathizer. We will all attack _en masse_ and overpower them and destroy the city...and their leader...once and for all."

"We have the numbers to pull it off?" Spyro asked.

"Aye. We may seem small, but we have troops all over this planet, from desert to tropics, from ocean to ocean, and from pole to pole, we also have troops all over the universe. King Max has his share, and we also have the UNSC. If we can all move as one, we can easily take them down, no matter how many they have to their name."

"Your calling for a lot of risk..." Piermont warned. "Everyone has to cooperate _EXACTLY_ as planned."

"I know, that's why I was so selective as to who knew about this, we can't risk failure."

"It will take one helluva miracle of impossible proportions, even God has His limits."

"He restored New Alexandria after the Nova 6 attack, yes?"

"Well...yeah..."

"And He kept us from dying or even being injured when we were nuked, am I right?"

"Yeah..."

"So, I trust that He can pull this off as well."

"You're sure asking a lot out of Him. Eventually your luck will run out, or He will get annoyed at your outrageous moves."

"If there is a reason for everything, Piermont, then tell me: my sudden urgency to enact this difficult mission with absolutely no errors sure implies that it is, in fact, God-willed."

"Yeah, yeah...I get the point, no need to rub my face into it."

"I'm not, Pierre, I'm just proving my point."

"Point taken."

"Very good, now, General, will you please carry on with the briefing?"

"My pleasure. Anyways, as I'm sure you have already realized by now, since the beginning of the war, Alex and myself have been working on fine tuning a plan...a way to finally end this damned war once and for all. According to Intel, the walls are approximately two hundred feet tall, half that in width., made of sandstone, much like our walls. The city covers an area of about ten or fifteen square miles. The walls are lined with artillery, positioned about every fifty to one hundred feet along the length. In between those, you have MGs as well as laser cannons and an average of four hundred patrolmen at all times. Our biggest obstacle, obviously, is the flat land, they can see any stealthy moves we try to make. However, their open location also has a few advantages to us, namely, less natural formations to worry about, we don't have to climb mountains if we want to surround the city.

"They have a total of six turrets, each positioned along the walls. One per corner, and one at the midpoint of a single length. Along with that, they have six radar stations, positioned likely so. The majority of their radars are held underground, but we have reason to believe that the transmitter is located within the turrets, take them down, and they will be blind to aerial attacks by both our dragonriders and our planes. They have four forcefield generators, each sending a signal to the receiver, located in the very heart of the city, alongside their communications tower. Wipe both out, and we can severely cripple their ability to call in reinforcements and destroy their precious electron shield. In the town square, they have a massive artillery battery, composed primarily of anti-aircraft, with a few small pieces of anti-armor. If we can get close enough, we can render their AA guns worthless with little to no resistance.

"There are four gates, centered in each of the cardinal directions, made of steel, and fully automated. We also have reason to believe that their gates are defended by proximity auto-turrets. So we definitely need to watch out for those. As for their inventory roster, they have around 50,000 troops, 1,500 pieces of armor, 750 aircraft, 20,000 riflemen-half being snipers, 7,500 SMGs, and 7,500 wielding assault rifles. They have 5,000 HMGs, and each troop is manned with both a sidearm and a knife or sword, or both. Our battle plan? Alpha Company will be divided into fourths, with each fourth leading one of our fronts, and the Commander's wing will supply aerial cover. Once we penetrate their gates, we need to advance quickly to take out their shield generators, or have one of our Riders move to do it for us. Then, we need to take down the receiver, then the communications tower, and then the satellite transmitters. We need to take out their auto-turrets, and their automatic anti-aircraft turrets that they have positioned around the city.

"Try to capture their ammunition depots and any vehicle garages they have...if that isn't possible, destroy them. We can't leave anything up for grabs, we must ensure that they are neutralized! This is our one shot, we can't screw this up. Your final target will be Capitol Hill, where "Necro" has established a nice headquarters and where we think he's holding a prototype superweapon. TAKE OUT THAT WMD! If we allow them to finish production, we will definitely be in danger."

"I have an idea," Piermont interrupted, "Why don't we just blow the city away with the Halo? That would save ourselves all the trouble."

Elliot shook his head, "No, the Ring's positioning thrusters were damaged by a meteor shower that ran by here a few days ago, the damned thing is offline for improvements anyways, and, it's also still, technically, being repaired after the _Maxia_ wiped out that one hundred and twenty mile section a few months ago."

"So, how can we keep the _Maxia_ from unleashing a counter-offensive?"

"Easy, take them down before they can gather enough forces to fix one up."

"Okay then, so when do we strike?"

In two days' time. Tonight, you are all being shipped down to the trenches around the city. There, we will work out any flaws, and strike at dawn."

"What about Max and the Minecrawlers? Will we expect them? Or the UNSC?"

"Aye. However, as I'm sure you are more than familiar with, we can only ship the Minecrawlers down an hour at a time. The day of our strike, there will only be two ideal times in the energy streams to allow the them passage."

"Well...that sucks...if only we didn't have to worry about the solar energy streams to transport those behemoths, we could take the city, with just them, in less than an hour."

And Piermont was right. The Minecrawlers were the largest weapon the militia had in its arsenal, the size of Central Park in width and length and as tall as the Empire State Building, the immense tanks could easily plow through any and all defenses. However, their one limiting flaw was their mass. It required the harnessed energy of solar wind, and the proper alignment of conflicting energy streams to transport and move the monstrosities from their home planet to Earth. The energy streams had to be in ideal conditions, with little margin for error, or else the City Minecrawlers could be transported out into random space. As for transportation once landed, they were remotely controlled by a pilot who could be positioned anywhere in the universe. Unfortunately, if the pilot died, the Minecrawler would go into automatic self-destruct mode, and would be immediately teleported back to the home planet.

"Then, it's settled, yes?" Elliot asked the crowd. Without giving anyone a chance to answer, he said, "Good! Glad to hear it! Now, head on off to Anderson Airfield, and I shall see you all out on the battlefield."

-**Outside Necropolis: Washington DC, Virginia**-

-_**12 February 2012**_-

-_**0622 Hours**_-

The plane transporting Alpha Company signaled to land roughly twenty miles outside of their destination. Because of the eerily, unnaturally flat land, "Necropolis was fully visible from the airstrip...and the airstrip was fully visible from "Necropolis. Because of this, Alex and his team had to abandon the luxuries of their private plane in exchange for a normal, commercial jetliner. Before they could exit, they were forced into their human forms (or the animals were placed in proper carrying bags), and were forced to don the attire of normal civilians. Also, Alex was forced to wear make-up to hide his numerous battle-scars. Now fitting in with normal people, Alex was led to the radio tower where Elliot, dressed in plain clothes, opened a trapdoor set into the floor. Utilizing the tunnels originally excavated for DC's sprawling, underground prison, the many troops of the Terminator Militia were led through the narrow tunnels by the thousands, advancing to the hidden trenches that provided great observation points without being overly obvious to outsiders.

After several hours in the tunnels, Alex and the rest of his company emerged in a large bunker where they were offered a warm breakfast, uniforms, and sleeping quarters. Once rested, they gathered in the heart of the system of trenches, where Elliot had set up an exact replica of the diorama in Alex's war room, and was, once more, issuing the briefing. Alpha Company listened merely as a reminder, and once Elliot concluded, they were pulled aside by the General. "Alex, Piermont, Spyro, Cynder, I need to talk to you, the rest of you can relax and prepare for our strike tomorrow."

Once Alpha Company was dismissed, along with the rest of the audience, and the room was empty, Elliot began, "I hope you are all ready for tomorrow. Spyro, Cynder, I've had to change your assignments. Because you are technically part of Alex's wing, as well as most of Alpha Company, I am assigning you with him. I want you all to meet with your wing and make sure they know their assignments by heart. Failure is _NOT_ an option! I will repeat, we have one, mark one, shot at this! If we fail here, who knows how long this war will continue, _comprende_?"

"Yes, we understand."

"Good! I hate repeating myself. Now, dismissed!"

-_**13 February 2012**_-

-_**0724 Hours**_-

"Commander!" Elliot hissed, and Alex immediately approached.

"Yes, General?"

"Is your team ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, what about the invasion teams?"

"Red, Blue, Gold, and Silver teams are already in position."

"Good, on your mark, Commander."

Alex sprinted through a series of empty caves, eventually emerging through a trapdoor concealed by a thorn bush. Once above ground, he pulled out his binoculars, observing the patrolling troops on the ramparts, and the activity as supply trucks entered and left the city. Radio unstrapped and to his mouth, Alex said, "Okay, we're ready."

Elliot's voice replied on the other end of the line, "Send 'em out."

After a few moments, Alex depressed the mic button on the radio and whispered, "Red Team, advance."

Through the binoculars, Alex could see Red Team, led by Cheet and his mate, Keisha, sneak closer to the eastern wall.

"In position, Commander," Cheet whispered.

"Roger. Blue Team, advance."

Blue Team, led by Sonic, advanced into position towards the western wall. "In position," Sonic replied.

"Roger Blue Team. Gold, advance."

The northern team, led by Elliot, advanced, and soon, Elliot's voice confirmed his position.

"Swell, now, Silver, move out."

Silver Team, led by Rudolph, advanced, and Alex, upon confirmation, called his team to get into position. Once the Commander's wing was positioned on the forested cliff several miles outside of the trenches, Alex called, "Commence artillery barrage, let's give 'em their 8 AM wake up call."

Almost immediately the music of several hundred WWII-era Nebelwerfer rocket launchers fired into the night. Although there were many more sophisticated and deadly weapons on the market, and the militia had more than enough money and resources to purchase them, Alex always had a soft spot for WWII weapons, and thus, used them whenever he could...modified, of course, to live up to modern-day expectations. Alex and his wing watched as hundreds of balls of fire arched into the sky and came crashing down onto the forcefield.

"URA!" Alex cried, and within moments, the sounds of billions of screaming soldiers filled the dreary world.

And so, did _Operation: Armageddon_ commence...

"URA!" Reznov called, "Storm their gates! Annihilate their city!"

With an accompanying battle cry from his tank division, Reznov led them forward through the muck and mud of the trampled plain as they advanced to the southern gate, leading a massive siege tower equipped with a battering ram.

Alex and Piermont flew through the weakening electron forcefield, spewing fire down on the generators as they tried to completely disable the glowing dome. Suddenly, Piermont cried, "Alex!" as something hard smashed into the dragon's side. The forest dragon roared in pain as the impact sent him spiraling out of control, and Alex, disoriented, glanced up to see the evil lord of the _Maxia_, "Necro", mounted on his massive black, armored dragon, Malleas, hovering in place. "Necro" was wearing demonic-looking armor, but his blood-red, glowing eyes shined out from beneath his ram-horned, steel helmet.

Recovering, Piermont evaded another charge from Malleas and countered, entangling his wings within the enemy dragon's as the two beasts fought tooth and claw. The dog fight unsettled their riders, and Alex and "Necro" leaped off their warring dragons, landing with a roll onto the ramparts above the southern gate. Immediately, Alex unsheathed his dual-wield, blood-red swords and charged. "Necro" was quick to reveal his own twin blades, and their duel began. Feinting, Alex fell for the trap, and the demon shoved him back, sending the Commander flying across the walkway, landing on his back as he slid farther away. Once his sliding halted, and Alex felt his road-burns healing, he tentatively stood up as a quake-like rumble tore through the ramparts. The ground beneath him cracked and began to cave in as Reznov and his battering ram charged and slammed the gates. Alex immediately broke into a run, speeding towards his waiting enemy as the structure collapsed from beneath him.

"Die, "Necro"!" Alex hissed, leaping and driving his erect body into the demon's chest. His opponent was thrown back, his blades spinning wildly off the ramparts and embedding themselves into the street below. Here, the two enemies fought hand-to-hand before "Necro" revealed a crooked dagger and began stabbing at the Commander. Alex dodged, leaping off his enemy and revealing his own dagger. They fought until, after utilizing his terrakinesis-the ability to manipulate earth and earthen materials-to send his opponent flying across the walkway, Alex called upon his powerful telekinesis to bring his blades back. Like a boomerang, the enchanted, hand-crafted blades spun back to their leader, and Alex easily grabbed the hilts, charging the stunned demon. Still they fought, "Necro" telekinetically bringing his own blades back. Eventually, Alex spotted a breach in his enemy's guard, and took the opportunity, severing the hand in a spray of blood. "Necro" roared and collapsed, holding the bleeding stub that used to be his hand, swearing as Alex approached, crossing his blades around the demon's neck.

"Go on! Kill me! If you have the ba-" Alex cut him off as he punched the demon in the cheek, sending him flying to the side where his unconscious body fell into the collapsed section of the burning wall.

Piermont! he mentally called out, to me!

With a deafening roar, Piermont landed, and he lowered his neck, allowing Alex to mount. "Did you kill him yet?" the dragon asked his rider.

"No...but he's temporarily immobile."

"Good enough for me."

"Where's Malleas?"

"Roasting in a burning building."

"Ura!" Spyro cried as he swept down to the street, flaming the advancing troops.

Effortlessly, he evaded all attacks, countering with his own crippling blows. As he pushed towards the nearby radar station, he noticed that the defenders had finally acknowledged his presence, and he dodged the streams of bullets that came his way. Growing adventurous, he dove lower, taunting the guards to catch him. He dodged them with relative ease until...a sudden crack and a massive flare of pain as one guard flanked him and smashed the butt of an AK47 into the back of the dragon's skull. Limp, dazed, Spyro went down, his painful crash landing onto the buckled streets unfelt beneath the overpowering blow to the head.

"Haha!" he distantly heard one of the guards say, "We have one of 'em! Commander Spyro the Dragon, feared second-in-command to the Great Commander," 'feared' and 'Great Commander' were emphasized with sarcasm, and mockery, and, as Spyro approached the looming void of unconsciousness, he was vaguely aware of being lifted and carried away.

"Die you goddamn beasts! Burn in hell! Burn in hell all of you!" Piermont hissed, wicked laughter erupting from his smoking muzzle as he spewed fire onto the crowd of enemies. "URA MOTHER-"

His victorious shout was cut off as "Necro", on Malleas, appeared once more, charged them and smashed into his side. Now Malleas tangled with Piermont as the confining dragon took several snaps at the forest dragon. Alex's dragon defended himself by spewing white-hot fire into the enemy dragon's mouth, bringing on pained cries from Malleas. As the dragons barrel-rolled and loop-the-looped, engaging in a deadly dance, "Necro" charged Alex, and the duo began sword-fighting on dragonback, barely managing to remain on their beasts. Finally, Alex slashed "Necro"'s breast, and the demon staggered. As he was about to finish the demon, immense pain ripped throughout his body as Piermont let loose a pained cry. Malleas had bit the forest dragon's neck, and blood spewed from the broken armor and flesh. Quickly regaining his senses, Alex dove at "Necro", striking the demon and sending them both plummeting to the ground. Utilizing his Aerokinesis-the ability to control the element of air-Alex managed to extend their fall as he and "Necro" fought hand-to-hand, exchanging punches and blows as they intended to best their opponents.

The pair crashed to the ground, "Necro" much harder than Alex. Struck with pain, but not unbearable, the Commander stood and watched in horror as the two dragons fought, Malleas gaining control over Piermont and throwing the forest dragon into a burning building. After several moments, Piermont didn't appear, and the hovering Malleas flew off, returning to the battle outside the city walls. Alex, fury gripping through him, roared. Fire, starting from his palms, crawled up his arms and body, engulfing him, and his black-and-red armor became the red, orange, and yellow of his elemental spirit...The Fire King.

"Necro", standing unsteadily and brushing dust and debris off his chain mail armor, was caught off guard as the Commander grabbed his neck, lifting him high. Speaking in rapid Draconic, Alex laughed demonically as he tossed his enemy across the roof. Out of nowhere, seeming to have realized that his rider was in danger, Malleas spewed fire upon the Commander, not harming him, but diverting his attention. Piermont reappeared, charging and attacking Malleas.

While the dragons were distracted, Alex approached the weakened "Necro", and the demon hissed, saying in his low, raspy voice, "Stop tormenting me, vile worm! If it is my spilled blood you seek, then finish the deed! Stop stalling!"

"Alas, but it is so much fun to torment you," Alex's voice was like that of a hundred roaring fires.

"You will NOT succeed!"

The Commander laughed, "Oh really now? You are outmatched, outmanned, outgunned, your putrid city will fall by dusk, and your corpse will rot with the others of your army in the ruined street."

"Such confidence in such a cowardly boy. If you are to finish me, then finish me!"

Suddenly, there came the indescribable sound of approaching Minecrawlers. Alex could only compare it to the sound of a high speed train, speeding past, but played in reverse. Each landing of the seven massive tanks produced an earthquake that rocked the city and the surrounding plains. "Necro", eyes growing wide with dawning realization, suddenly realized that he would not win, that they were hopeless and only delaying the imminent outcome of the battle.

Immediately after landing, the City Minecrawlers fired their immense cannons, sounding like powerful Gatling mini-guns, into the city walls. With amazement, both enemies watched as the walls and sectors of the city were shredded as if they were nothing but toilet paper being ripped into pieces. Not too long after the Minecrawlers' appearance, several hundred electric orbs appeared in the skies, and both Covenant and UNSC ships appeared. Everyone had arrived, now the fun began.

Piermont landed on the ramparts, looking at "Necro", entranced and unmoving as he stared at the Minecrawlers, and sending a puzzled glance at Alex. "Leave him," the Commander said.

After Alex had mounted, Piermont replied, "Are you sure?"

Once more becoming his normal form, the Commander replied, "Yes. Now, enough questions, let's go give 'em a warm welcome!"

Alex and Piermont landed just inside a frigate, meeting the Master Chief, Arbiter, and Sergeant Johnson, all of which were about to deploy to the streets, now swarming with Covenant and UNSC forces and Terminator soldiers. "Well, well, well! Nice to see you finally arrive!"

"We got holed up, last minute tests, resupplying, the works," Johnson replied, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Good for you. Luckily, we've done the hard work for you."

"Hard work? Ha! Breaching the walls is the fun part, Commander. Besides, it seems to me that our Elite friends are doing more work than you."

Here, Johnson pointed to a Covenant supercarrier, flying over and glassing one of the sectors of the city. "C'mon now!" Alex replied with humor, "Save some for the rest of us!"

"First come, first serve, Commander. Surely such a prestigious individual as yourself knows that philosophy."

"See you at the debriefing, we're off."

With a final roar of farewell, Piermont flew off, his rider mounted, heading towards another sector of the city.

They didn't get far, however, as Malleas and "Necro" burst from behind a cluster of buildings, charging full speed at the Commander, fire spraying from his open muzzle. "Necro" leaped off his mount, landing on Piermont and kicking Alex off of his dragon. The startled Commander landed on another building rooftop, quickly recovering as he charged to meet his enemy once more. "Still afraid to finish me?" "Necro" asked as he charged the Commander, blades drawn.

Malleas pursued the fleeing Piermont to the western gates, where the forest dragon realized that the large, open air space was more than enough to engage his opponent in a formidable duel. He landed on a building rooftop, perching on the ledge as he waited for his enemy. As expected, Malleas emerged from around the corner, and Piermont flew into battle, meeting the beast and once more engaging in that deadly dance. However, the forest dragon and his smaller mass fit perfectly with the arena, giving him the advantage. Malleas, finding maneuverability difficult, attempted to rise above the skyline. However, Piermont, streamlining his body as much as he could, beat him, and flying straight up vertically, began a pile drive and plowed into Malleas' back. The enemy dragon staggered and Piermont gripped him in his powerful claws, biting hard into his neck until he could taste the salty, coppery warmth of Malleas' blood, and flew forward, tossing the demonic dragon forward. The dark dragon clumsily rolled into a building, and in a spray of black blood, was impaled on a jagged girder.

Malleas let out a mournful roar as he struggled to escape, only succeeding in further driving the girder in. Piermont glided before the furious but trapped dragon's eyes, saying, "I think you have been defeated. Time to die!"

Grunting, Piermont pulled the massive behemoth off the girder and threw him to the ground. Then, the forest dragon landed, and in a brief, swift move, slit his throat. Malleas let out a final death-roar as jagged cracks began to spiderweb throughout his body, and bright white light seeped through. Roaring one final time, the beast exploded, blood and entrails mysteriously nonexistent, as fire feasted on his dry bones. The skeleton of the former dragon landed, and Piermont noticed that it blackened as the fires began to dim. In a gust of wind, the blackened dragon bones blew away in chunks of black rock, and Malleas was no more.

Overjoyed at his victory, Piermont suddenly realized how weary he was, and he collapsed, watching as his bleeding neck created a small puddle around his head.

"So, bested again," "Necro" said, gasping for breath.

"I guess so," Alex hissed, crossed blades against his opponent's neck once again.

"Still too cowardly to kill me, huh? Some warrior you are."

"Death is to kind a punishment for you, Demon."

"Well...lucky for me, I still have a few surprises."

Alex recoiled as the demon revealed a .357 Magnum and fired a single bullet into his chest. Alex, feeling closer to death than an ordinary bullet should allow a mutant to feel, managed to say, "What...what did you do?"

"Necro" stood, making a show of brushing off the dust as he strolled on over to the gasping, collapsed Commander. "A simple, hollow-point bullet, poisoned with an anti-serum serum. I can't kill you, that damned silver immunity you have now, but I can destroy your mutated cells, or at least render them useless. Within an hour, you will be little more than a normal human being, and THAT is where I will personally ensure you meet your fate once and for all, Commander."

"Necro" suddenly let loose a howl and collapsed, his body spastic with grand mal seizures. Once they ceased, he lay, trembling, gasping, on the rooftop. Weakly, Alex stood, "Methinks Malleas has fallen."

Alex was well aware that the death of one's dragon felt like a massive chunk of the victim's heart and spirit being ripped from them, bringing them to the point of suicide. The Commander was surprised to find that he pitied the demon's torment, one doesn't deserve to lose their dragon, no matter how evil they are.

As Alex stood, weak from the poison, he felt dazed, and collapsed forward, falling into deep unconsciousness.

-_**Six Hours Later**_-

"Alex!" emerged a distant, frightened voice from somewhere beyond the black void the Commander was floating in. Then, light flooded the dark plain, and Alex could make out the blurred scene before him. Eventually, the blur sharpened, and the Commander found himself staring into the terrified eyes of his dragon.

"P...Piermont?" he said, weakly.

"Alex? Alex! I finally found you! I'm so glad that you're okay!"

"Finally found me...what?" he then noticed the sunset, "How long was I out?"

"About six hours..."

"Six hours! The battle!"

"Don't worry! Don't worry, everything's fine, we're winning!"

"Where's our team?"

"Storming the capital. Come, we're expected on the front lines."

The fact that Alex could heal (albeit very little) told him that he still had at least some of his abilities. How long he had them was an entirely different the story. The anti-serum serum took longer to succeed than "Necro" had first stated, but it was still winning. "Where's "Necro"?" Alex asked, suddenly realizing the demon was gone.

Piermont shook his head, "I don't know, we haven't seen him since Malleas died."

The dragon flew low, gliding beside a column of tanks, led by Reznov, that tore through the burning, buckled streets. "I see you finally found our missing leader?" the Russian replied.

"Aye."

"Good, just in time, too. Have you noticed the Ring?"

Both Piermont and Alex glanced up, watching as the superweapon slowly moved across the darkening skies...aligning.

"Who armed it?" Alex asked, panic settling in.

"We don't know," Reznov replied, "We thought you had someone to fire it. I thought it was still undergoing repairs."

"It is..."

"So why is it firing? Did the _Maxia_ hijack it again?"

"I don't think so...I actually doubt it. When we regained control of the Ring, I changed the password and programmed a few more firewalls. If anyone tries to so much as visit the Ring's program without the proper code, a worm will be sent through their computer and will literally fry every electronic object within."

"Let's hope it's still on the friendly side."

"We can only hope."

Merely two miles from the capital, a fresh wave of _Maxia_ mutants-"Necro"'s 'Elite' Forces-charged into battle, armed with poisoned blades. Alex, relying on every ounce of his remaining strength, quickly pressed through, beheading each mutant...the only sure way to kill them. He was surrounded by the Elite, and he fought them off, barely feeling the small nicks and cuts he received from the poisoned blades. With each cut dealt to him, he felt his strength sap, and he realized that the poison was acting quicker than ever. "Hurry!" he commanded, "We need to hurry, before it's too late!"

"Tell me," "Necro" whispered into the ear of his captive, "What is the firing code?"

"Go...to...hell!" the weak voice replied.

"Now, now Spyro, do be polite, I don't want to have to make a mess," "Necro" revealed an energy sword, stolen from a fallen Sangheli, and poisoned with the serum.

"Might as well give up," Spyro smiled weakly, "I will never break."

"That's what they always say, but I do know how to be...rather convincing."

"Try your luck, I dare you."

"Very well then."

Spyro let out a brief cry as "Necro" swiftly slashed a shallow cut across the purple dragon's torso. The wound, instead of healing, grew black, and the dragon noticed that the already-congealed blood was bubbling. "What...is this!" he moaned in agony.

"An anti-serum serum, the very same I used on your friend, the Commander."

"Alex!"

"Don't worry, his death was...rather brief."

"You ba-!"

Another slash and fresh waves of pains cut the dragon off, "Naughty, naughty. No need to start name-calling. Now, I shall ask again, tell me the firing code, and I will let you go."

Pain shot through the bodies of the members of Alpha Company, dull enough to inform them that it wasn't their own, but sharp enough to know that whoever was injured was suffering greatly. However, they could still feel each others heartbeats, and there was no soul-shredding pain that signaled the death of one of their own. Spyro's unique heartbeat was rapid, dangerously so, and Alex knew that whatever was going on, the dragon was the source of the shared misery. "We need to find Spyro before something really bad happens," Alex said, recovering from the crippling blow.

"Agreed," the others said in unison.

"Tell me what I want! How kind do I have to be to you, you wretched beast!"

"I will never break!"

"You will break! Or you will die!"

"Then kill me you cowardly son of a-"

Another painful slash, and Spyro was once more reduced to tears and pain, "I told you, respect me!" "Necro" hissed.

"Then let me go...you will not get anything from me!"

Spyro braced himself for another slash, but when nothing came, he opened his eyes and saw "Necro" standing over him, smiling. "So be it then," the demon dismissed in a sing-song tone, "Perhaps I will get nothing from you...but I know someone who will submit to my request...or make you submit."

From the entrance of the massive, long room, Spyro could hear the protests and cries of his mate, and sure enough, Cynder, bleeding from a gaping cut in her brow, was dragged over and forced into a kneeling position on the ground before the purple dragon. The female dragoness attempted to stand, but in a swift move, "Necro" brought the hilt of his sword down on her head, and a resounding crack filled the air as she went down.

"Now, I have my leverage, Dragon," "Necro" continued, "You might not care about your life, but I know that you do care about hers. Tell me the firing code, or I will kill her. If you doubt my statement, try my patience, and see what I do. My Malleas is dead, killed by that cowardly, smart-ass of a dragon belonging to your leader. I have nothing to lose, and I'm craving revenge. I will kill her in an instant, unless you cooperate."

"I...I can't..."

Spyro then looked down, and felt his heart sink as he saw Cynder's tearing, pain-stricken eyes look into his, pleading for mercy.

"Are you sure that is your final answer?"

"Necro" forcefully grabbed Cynder by the horns, bringing her head up and touching the searing edge of

the blade to her neck. She let out a brief cry, but otherwise remained silent and did not protest.

"I..."

"You what?"

"Fine..." Spyro said, lowering his head in shame as he finally submitted, "But I will enter the password."

"So be it, but try to screw us over, and both of you will die!"

To emphasize his point, "Necro" slashed a shallow cut in Cynder's neck, and the dragoness cried out in pain. Walking over to the computer terminal, Spyro hesitantly hacked the Ring.

"Set the coordinates for this blasted city."

He did, and with a few, heavy, slow keystrokes, he entered the password.

"Good, very good," "Necro" replied, and brought the blade up above his head.

"Wait!" Spyro cried, "You promised!"

Only, "Necro" once more smashed the hilt against Cynder's head, knocking the female unconscious, and he set to work on binding her, handcuffing her to the rail of the catwalk he stood on. Approaching Spyro, he restrained him in a similar fashion and said, "Now, let the games begin!"

The militia tore up the stairs, pausing before the door as Cheet pointed out, "Alex! Look!"

The ring, LEDs glowing a brilliant green, halted its position, and the cannon began to emerge from within.

"How did he activate the ring!?" Cheet cried out.

"I don't know," Alex replied, "But we need to hurry if we're going to stop him."

They charged through the building, fighting through each room and each floor until they finally arrived at a massive, gilded set of double doors. His troops regrouped, and Alex used his terrakinesis to blow away the door. "Stop!" he commanded, his troops gathering around and preparing to fire.

"Necro" stood at the far end of the room, about the same length as two football fields. "Well, well, well, Commander. I have been expecting you. I hope you enjoy our little...fireworks show."

"Stop this, "Necro", and I won't have to end your wretched life."

The demon laughed, "Ah Alex, Alex, Alex, all bark and no bite I'm afraid. Besides, you must tread quietly now, your friends are sleeping," he said this with mockery and joy in his voice, smiling and chuckling as he nodded towards the unconscious Spyro and Cynder. "How sad and ironic! The orchestrator of your demise is your own best friend and his loving mate."

"What have you done? That ring will destroy everything and everyone in this whole damn city! You'll perish!"

"As well as your precious team, consider this as my final moment of glory. I am going to die someday, let not my death be met with glory and honor? Having single-handedly taken the entire Terminator menace down to the stoves of Hell with me? Stories will be told of my victory for ages!"

"You self-centered, heartless piece of crap, you have no idea what this will do!"

"I know enough, Commander. Enough speech, come, fight through the last of my troops, and you and I will enjoy our next showdown...and our last. Witnessed by the gods, and the all-seeing eye," here he acknowledged the green orb of the charging cannon through the skylight, "We shall see who the better warrior is."

Suddenly, Alex cried out as a sniper fired from somewhere, and a bullet tore through his right temple, exiting in a cloud of blood from the left side of the back of his head. He went down, hitting the ground as Alpha Company surrounded him...but he still lived. Standing, he said, "You will have to try harder than that, "Necro"!" but his voice was weak, and blood poured from his injury.

The air rumbled with "Necro"'s drone-like laughter, "Don't worry, Commander, I have already done enough. Your mutated genes can only hold off the imminent void for so long, and when it catches up to you...well...I'm sure you know the outcome."

The world seemed to move in slow motion as the militia fought the last of the _Maxia_, and within what seemed like hours, Alex launched himself at "Necro", pinning him to the ground.

"And so commences our final battle!" the demon laughed, kneeing the pinning boy in the chest and sending him flying across the small, raised platform they stood on. He slid to a stop, and the Commander stood, raising his blades as he and "Necro" engaged in their duel. Even the _Maxia_ observed, their battle with their enemies temporarily forgotten, standing side-by-side with those they were supposed to fight, as the battle between the two leaders raged on

Circling each other, "Necro" hissed, "You cannot win, Commander! Though you might have taken my city, you will not take me!"

Alex smiled, "I will end your life."

Their blades clashed, and they continued. The demon lunged at the Commander, but he jumped aside, slashing the demon's leg and Achilles tendon. Hissing in pain, "Necro" collapsed on his knees, and the Commander crossed his blades before his enemy's neck.

"So..." "Necro" began, panting heavily, his voice filled with rage, "You think you have won, don't you? You have not! And even if you do kill me, my followers will avenge me. If you kill them, too, your wounds will take you down, and the ring will destroy all evidence of your pathetic existence!"

"Wrong," Piermont, in his human form, hissed, mounting the platform, "You have failed."

The forest dragon turned to the terminal, and with a few rapid taps on the keyboard, the Halo suddenly paused, and the cannon began to retract into the ring.

"NO!" "Necro" hissed, "FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION!"

"Silence!" the Commander hissed back, "Your time has come!"

In a swift move, Alex rammed "Necro"'s sword through his back and out his chest, impaling him on the blade. The Commander then led his impaled enemy to the edge of the platform, and with a swift kick, knocked the demon into the yawning chasm that ran beneath the large room. Their leader fallen, the _Maxia_ tried to fight back, but were soon overwhelmed and killed. Finally, the battle over, Alex stood upon the platform, staring out at all of his troops, "Victory has finally been achieved!" he said, "This war is finally over, and peace has arrived at last!"

The massive crowd cheered at the victory, and as Piermont, with a rescued and once more conscious Spyro and Cynder, stood beside him, Alex began to breathe heavily, leaning against the terminal. He staggered, and Piermont asked, "Are you okay?"

Alex nodded, but he was pale. "I'm fine," he said weakly.

As he stood again, ready to begin his speech, he suddenly collapsed, pressing against the terminal and sliding down as blood streaked across the gray steel. "Alex!" Piermont cried, running to his fallen rider.

Laying on the ground, breathing heavily, Alex's eyes were wide, but understanding of his fate.

"Spyro..." he muttered.

The dragon approached, "Yes?"

Spyro flinched as Alex raised his fist, instead of punching the purple dragon, however, he grabbed his

dog tags and ripped them off, grabbing Spyro's paw and bringing him close. Through clinched teeth, Alex hissed, "Spyro, lead my army...you're next in line."

"No..." Spyro replied, "I...I can't. Only you can! You are our commander!"

Alex didn't reply, his gaze took on an empty and euphoric look. Surrounding Spyro, and the rest of his team, the dim, drab lights of the room had been emphasized, until everything but surrounding Alpha Company was enshrouded in a bright, beautiful, and warm, yellow light. With a final exhale, he released his soul to the light, and Great Commander Alex Vaughn died. His grip loosened, and Spyro pulled his paw away, staring at the beat, weathered tags in them. Clinching the artifact tightly, Spyro squeezed his eyes shut as betraying tears began to appear and run down his face.

Almost immediately after, Piermont let loose a mournful howl, and in a way similar to Malleas, his skin began to break, revealing pure white light. In a large explosion and with one final howl of agony, only his dried bones, burning brightly, marked his formal existence. All of Alpha Company was crippled as the harsh, violent pain of their two fallen members tore through their bodies...and suddenly...two heartbeats were gone, flatlined.

Stunned, Spyro wandered over to the terminal, and tapping slowly, recited to the stricken crowd the old proverb and philosophy Alex had taught them all, "As Terminators are born of fire, so shall they die by fire."

With a final tap, the Ring reopened and the cannon reappeared. "C'mon," he told the grief-stricken mass, "If you want to live, we need to get the hell out of this town, and now."

This shattered their paralysis, and immediately, the massive army began to run. Elliot appeared, grabbing Spyro and Cynder by their paws and dragging them outside the building and to a jeep. "Hop

in," he said, "Quickly now before we're vaporized."

The air was silent, not a cry of terror, not a bird singing, no wind audible, the world was strangely silent as the Militia evacuated. Within moments, the Ring had fired it's tracking laser, and the world took on a red-orange hue. In response to the beam, the world shook violently, a long, continuous earthquake ravaging the broken city. As the roads collapsed, they fled town, barely reaching the city limits as the Ring began its firing process.

Ramping off of a buckled, broken highway, Spyro, Cynder, and Elliot led the rear as they reached safety, and stood with their teammates, the massive army draped in a macabre silence as they watched the world flash brightly, felt the shock wave of impact, and after merely ten seconds, the light cleared, and where the city once was, was flat, barren, charred wasteland. The new commander stood before the crowd, and in a choked voice, said, "It is what he would have wanted."

Without another word, the crowd began the long trek back home, leaving Spyro alone. Cynder turned back and stood beside her mate, staring, statuesque, at what used to be "Necro"polis. She nuzzled his neck affectionately with her muzzle, and resting her head on his shoulders, whispered, "It will never be the same...I miss them."

"So do I, Cynder..."

"But it will be alright...right?"

"Hopefully."

"I love you..."

"I love you, too."

Deep within the recesses of the wasteland, laying on a bed of ash within the remains of what used to be a building, two skulls lay side-by-side. One of a human, and one of a dragon, laying together, touching, as if comforting each other amidst the eerie, black snow.

Commander Alex Vaughn shot up in bed, panting heavily, sticky with sweat. Quickly glancing at the clock, he saw it read just after 4 AM. Staggering out of bed, the Commander, dressed only in his nighttime attire, stumbled out to the balcony and leaned against it, staring out over the Burned Lands...staring out over home.

_A dream..._he thought, _It was only just a dream..._

Along with this realization, he was torn by mixed emotions. He was relieved that he and Piermont were both still alive, but he was also furious and unhappy that the war was not over, that 'Necro' and Malleas still lived. The dream...it wasn't just a dream...the vividity in it was unlike any except that found in the visions he sometimes had. The visions...that ultimately came true.

Was it another odd, apocalyptic dream like he had been having recently? Where every apocalyptic nightmare foretold a different fate? Or was it something more...the truth of the fate of the Terminator Militia. Realizing that he was becoming tired again, he quickly but silently sneaked back inside, deciding to check up on his dragon.

Piermont slept soundly and peacefully, in his room, curled up with his mate. Alex could never recall feeling so relieved before, and he could never recall loving his dragon as much as he did then. Smiling to himself, he whispered, "I love you," and crept out. Crawling back into bed, he instantly felt sleep arriving, ready to take him into its warm embrace. Falling asleep, the last thought to cross the Commander's conscious mind was a quote from the first apocalyptic vision experienced by Spyro...


	24. Chapter XXIII: Revenant

_**Chapter XXIII**_**:**

**-''Revenant''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**15 November 2011**_**-**

**-**_**2115 Hours**_**-**

Alex Vaughn stood upon the balcony of his room, looking out over the walled, heavily fortified city of New Alexandria stretched out before him. Although the view of the city from his position was gorgeous, his eyes were focused on what lay beyond the tall, sandstone perimeter walls, beyond the barked, desert-like wasteland known as the Burned Lands. His cold, blue, killer's eyes stared towards the _Fiernes Curtain_, an immense wall of dragonfire that towered into the sky, completely encircling the northern half of the United States. The _Curtain_ provided a night light of sort to the sleepy city, now past curfew, casting the world in a warm, dry glow. Even in the middle of winter at the American/Canadian border, the world was a dry eighty degrees Fahrenheit, not unpleasant at all. The seventeen year old former child soldier leaned against the carved mahogany banister of his balcony, his long, shoulder-length, dark brown hair blowing lazily in the faint breeze, no thoughts going through his head for once in a long while, no worries, no fears. The captivating allure of the _Fiernes Curtain_ held his gaze, so full of life, and it did well to help both his busy mind and his insomnia. Even the nightmarish thoughts that surged through his head of past battles, of lives he had taken, lives he had watched end, the memories of an experienced soldier, were kept at bay by the untamed beauty of the wall of fire.

The weight of the Second American Civil War bearing down on him and the army he had founded many years ago, the Terminator Militia, declared on them by the radical United States president Barry Mabao's _Maxia _Regime, was beginning to effect not just morale within his militia, but the morale of those few American states still loyal to them, and Great Commander Alex Vaughn could only hope that the _Maxian _loyalists were also dealing with a collapse in morale. It had been two years since the war had begun, the United States was already scarred beyond recognition by conflict, even though the war had largely stalemated between the two forces, with the _Maxia _finding themselves unable to traverse the extent of the _Fiernes Curtain_ cutting the country in half, thanks to the immensely hot dragonfire that composed it, able to melt down even the hardest steel. He grinned slightly, cringing as the pain from severe burns along the left side of his face and body shot through him. Alex turned to face the sky, where the thin black ribbon of the spacial _Ring _superweapon sliced the cloudy, nighttime skies in half. The LEDs lining the side of the massive weapon facing earth glowed in the 'dead red' state. Although General Elliot, a short, stocky, short-tempered veteran and the former handler of Alex's unit, known as Alpha Company, the median between Alpha and the US federal government before the war broke out, had informed the commanding unit of Alpha Company and the entire Terminator Militia, referred to as the Terminator High Command, that the _Ring _was undergoing repairs after the deadly hack by the _Maxia _that nearly destroyed it, progress was slow. Financial resources could not afford to work fast on the weapon's repairs, mostly do to the surprising amount of expenses for the war effort.

"Piermont said I'd probably find you out here," a soft but firm female voice began from behind him, and Alex, mouth contorting into a grim smile, turned to face his visitor.

"Cynder, surprised to see you still awake...I thought you went to bed early?"

The small, female dragon smiled mischievously, catlike, sapphire-emerald eyes sparkling, "Well...was feeling a little lonely..." and she approached him, her sleek, feminine form as black as night, with bright, ruby-red belly scales and ivory horns upon her head. Her ruby-red wings were folded at her side, and she rubbed against his legs before finally sitting, wrapping her tail around her body, much like a cat would, staring out towards the _Fiernes Curtain_. Silenced hanged between them for several minutes before Cynder finally said, sighing, "Elliot still can't find Spyro anywhere...interrogating _Maxian _captives in the Southern Wastelands has yielded nothing, nobody knows where he is or what's happening. The others of Alpha can sense him over the mutual mind bank, so we know he's alive, we just don't know where he is."

"He'll be fine, Cyn," Alex replied, "Your mate is tough, you know?"

She chuckled, "Both of them are," and she winked at him, "I know he is but I'm just...I don't know...I worry for his safety. I know he can take care of himself but..."

"You can't help but want confirmation of his well-being, right?"

She nodded, "Yeah..." and she frowned, deeply saddened, "I haven't been able to sleep very well without him here with me."

"He'll be okay, I promise."

"You sure?" and Alex kissed her mouth.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Silence for a few moments before Cynder asked, "What are the odds that I can sleep with you tonight? I just...I can't stand the empty bed feeling..."

Alex chuckled, petting her head and hugging her, "I don't see anything wrong with it, careful though, I can get restless sometimes."

She genuinely laughed, "Oh, I know that, already," and she smiled, "Thank you for being there for me."

"Of course I would be, why wouldn't I? You'd do the same for me."

She nodded, "I know...it's just that I still enjoy it when people actually...y'know...care about me. I don't mean to sound like a broken record, or a bitchy little girl...but my life has never really been that easy since I joined the Terminators..."

"Easy?" and Alex laughed, "Oh honey, I wouldn't say this is easy."

"Ha...compared to some of the things I've encountered, this is a road trip..." and she smiled again, "But really...you and everyone else have really made me feel comfortable and at home...I've never felt that before. You guys trust me, which is something that no one else has done, except for Spyro..."

"You're a member of the family, Cyn...that's what Alpha is, we're one great big family. Both you _and _Spyro are part of it, and I'm glad to say so..." and he smiled sadly, "I never really had a family. I mean, I _do _have a family...but they've...I guess they've never really seen me as their kid. After the events with the GTC and Charity Hill, mom and dad always treated me like a visitor, not as a son...part of the reason why I got out of there when I had the chance. They don't want me there as much as I don't want them here..." and his grin soured, "Hell...if my mom found out that you and I were...um...together..." and he shook his head, "I would never hear the end of it."

"Why?"

"Probably because the world frowns upon interspecies relationships between humans and other creatures, regardless of whether or not they're sentient."

"I thought your scientists claim that interspecies relationships are not uncommon in the animal kingdom, and that humans were nothing more than glorified animals?"

"True...but there's still a certain stigma between a human hooking up with an individual of another species. Unfortunately, they would look upon me and you and wouldn't see it the way we do, they would still see it as some fucked up little kid screwing an animal. It's bad enough that I'm already viewed as a wild card and borderline insane by the majority of the world."

"Since when did the big bad Alex Vaughn care about how other people view him?" and she winked at him.

Alex shrugged, "I don't know, and I know it doesn't make much sense but...well here I am."

"Well, don't worry about it. Who cares what anyone thinks? Just so long as you and I are happy, right?"

"I guess..."

Then, changing the subject, Cynder asked, "So...any more visits from this mysterious girl of yours?"

Alex shrugged, "Not since that crap in Champaign."

"I wonder who she is."

"You and me both...there's something...different about her though. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's like...I know her from somewhere. I feel like that I used to know her a long, long time ago. I don't know how many times I've thought about it though, and I can't recall a single instance where I talked or dealt with someone _like _her."

"Do we even know her name?"

Alex shook his head, "Nope, she hasn't told me. She just...she keeps crying out for help, saying that I promised I would protect her, that I told her I loved her, and questioning whether or not I was telling the truth or just lying to get my way. I don't...I don't know. In fact, there's only one thing that I can safely assume, although I can't really guarantee..."

"And that is...?"

"That this girl isn't human."

"What?" and Cynder seemed genuinely surprised, "You mean, she's a mutant? Or something like Spyro and I, sentient without the need of the infamous Terminator mutation serum that all of the 'legendary mutant division', Alpha Company, is given during our training?"

"That's just it, I don't know."

"You'd think we'd sense her over the mutual mind bank though. Even though she's not a part of it, it's just like with all the other mutated soldiers in this little militia, we can sense them, even if we don't interact with their mental presences."

"I know...but I just...I can't explain it. She's not human, she may be mutated, in fact, I can't help but think that she _is_, although none of us have been able to sense her, even _I _haven't, and as the Alpha Mutant, I'm more in tune with that telepathic chatroom that is the mind bank than anyone else here."

"Maybe your sensitivity _as _the Alpha Mutant is the reason why she's haunting you and not the rest of us?"

"Maybe...I don't know," and he groaned, "I really don't wanna think too much into it. It's _way _too late, we have school tomorrow, and I'm tired as hell. All this crap does is give me a bloody damn headache."

"Sorry..."

"No, don't apologize, I get your curiosity...I just can't be of much help, cause I'm trying to figure out what the hell is going on myself."

"Well...we're all here for you if you need anything else," and she smiled warmly towards him.

He nodded, "Yeah...I know..." and he finally went back inside, climbing into bed beneath the covers. Cynder crawled into bed beside him, curling into a ball against his chest, and he, sleeping on his side, curled himself around her, extending a protective arm around her, holding her close. Instantly, he could feel her warm, soft scales begin to vibrate, and he could just make out a slight drone in tune with her rapid heartbeat, she was purring.

"Goodnight, Alex."

"Night, Cyn."

"I love you..."

"I love you, too."

"All right, Ladies! Today we're gonna start our wrestling segment!" Coach Jason Forks began, strolling back and forth past the lined up gym students, "I will hear no bitching, no crying, no complaining. If you don't like it, you can transfer into the girls' P.E class. I will also have no punching, no kicking, no biting, no spitting, just good, clean, wrestling."

The almost entirely animalian Alpha Company stood dispersed within the line, forcefully separated from the lineup by Coach Forks, who couldn't, for some reason, stand to see them clumped together. As usual, only Piermont and Cherub were in their mutation-granted human forms, as their natural forms, being dragons from the tropical island of Martaan, were too large to fit into most indoor places. No one in Alpha Company really wanted to be here, but the disgust was evident with Piermont especially. He leaned against the bleachers, arms crossed against his chest. His commonly used human form had slicked back, jet-black hair, pale skin, with piercing, emerald eyes (as eyes didn't change with the forms) and a disgusted frown. His usual attire: sunglasses, a black leather jacket over a clean white t-shirt, with black slacks and combat boots, had been traded for the standard t-shirts emblazoned with the Ellsworth High School logo worn by all P.E classes. Cherub, with long, blonde hair down to her lower back, tall, lanky, and bright, golden eyes, stood beside her mate, seeming distracted and appearing exhausted.

"You all will be divided into groups of two, where you will practice with each other in preparation for our wrestling competition in two weeks, got it? Oh, and one more thing..." and he stopped in front of Alex, standing beside his recently acquired human girlfriend, Sarah Rogers, "I don't wanna see any of that magical, mystical BS, understand? I also don't wanna see any martial arts or fancy swordplay, just wrestling," and he resumed his patrol.

"Why you gotta take out all the fun, man?" Piermont asked, "The magical, mystical BS with the fancy martial arts and swordplay are what make wheeling and dealing with Alpha Co. actually _interesting_!"

"Don't care, Pierre, don't wanna see it."

"Well then, guess that means I can't stay in my human form then, since that qualifies as 'magical, mystical BS'," and in a flash of light, he had returned into his natural form, approximately nine to ten feet tall from toe to the top of his horned head, proportionately long, with emerald green scales, tan belly scales and wing membranes, slightly ribbed, curved-back, ivory horns upon his head, and fierce emerald eyes. His horns, size, and the shape of his spines were the main determining factor in his sex, given that both sexes had genital sheathes that concealed their reproductive organs, and Martaanean females, surprisingly mammalian, had hardly noticeable pouches alongside their genital slits concealing their teats, much like cetaceans. Martaanean Forest (which he was) and Field (which his mate, Cherub, was) Dragon females lacked horns in place of stubs, with thinner and longer spines, in contrast to the males' shorter and stouter, and females were generally smaller than their male counterparts, the exception being the Martaanean Desert Dragons, who were matriarchal and largely tribal in nature, where the females were noticeably larger than the males, and _both _sexes had long horns, curved inward at a ninety degree angle instead of curved back like the other species.

"Really, Pierre?" Coach Forks began, not amused, "Don't be a smartass."

"What?" Piermont asked innocently enough, "You said..."

"Don't be stupid," and he moved on down the line.

Cherub glared at him, and Piermont, returning to his human form, only tossed aside his arms, "What? Hell did I do?"

Alex and Piermont, teamed together, circled around each other, ready for the fight, both looking for weaknesses in the other's stance they could exploit to gain control. "Yo! Alex, Pierre, why don't you two actually _do _something instead of looking like you're debating asking each other out on a date!" Coach Forks called to them, currently teaching two small, weak-looking Freshmen what to do.

Piermont, with a smirk, took this opportunity to pause the fight long enough to make a kissing face, saying, "C'mere sexy boy, gimme a smooch..." shortly before he was tackled by Alex and instantly restrained. "Ack!" the human-form dragon exclaimed, "No fair! You bastard!"

"Don't let your guard down, dumbass," Alex replied with a chuckle, letting the boy go.

Piermont stood up, glaring at his rider, "You asshat."

"Watch the language, Pierre!" Coach Forks called, not even looking up from what he was doing, and Piermont's expression soured even more.

"C'mon, Pierre, turn that frown upside down, huh?"

"Shut up, Alex," he spat, getting into a fighting stance.

With a mischievous grin, and casting a look towards their instructor, Alex turned to face Piermont again, a small ball of flame appearing in the palm of his hands. In an instant, he stabbed his open hand forward, watching as a jet of fire spewed from his palm with a violent roar, shooting past Piermont's side and leaving a black, charred spot on the window behind them. The fire alarms instantly went off, and the sprinkler system throughout the room activated, drenching the students and causing cries of irritation to erupt throughout.

"Damn it, Pierre!" Forks spat, "What did I say about the magic?"

"It wasn't me!" Piermont protested, jaw dropped, "It was Alex!"

"I don't know what he's talking about, sir," Alex replied with a grin.

"Oh fuck you, man."

"Language!"

Piermont only grumbled in response.

Once he had finished eating, Alex sneaked out of the lunch room, dodging the hall monitors and slipping outside. Most of Alpha Company was already outside, standing around and waiting for the bus to take them to the afternoon college classes they were taking as part of a dual-enrollment course their school took part in. "Where's Pierre?" he asked.

Cheet pointed to the bus garage, "Last time I saw him, he went over there."

"Thanks," and Alex, looking out for any traffic in the parking lot, crossed to the bus garage on the opposite side of the school's property. Piermont was on the opposite side of the bus garage, leaning against the wall, sheltering himself against the cold wind, a cigarette smoldering between his lips, "Really, man?" Alex asked, shaking his head

"What?" he asked.

"Taking a helluva risk don't you think?"

He smirked, "As long as I'm in this damn form, I'm addicted to tobacco."

"What if you get caught?"

"So what? I don't give a single fuck. You forget, you're the only one that _technically _is supposed to be in school, the rest of us just come along for the ride 'cause we got nothing better to do. 'Sides, I know how lonely you get when you got no one around you care about."

"That's a lie."

Piermont glared at him, "C'mon, man. Let's be real here, you always need at least _one _of us with you wherever you go. You get really lonely when you don't."

Silence from Alex.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," and he grinned again, tapping his head, "Remember, you can't lie to me," and he parted the hair on his forehead, revealing the raised scar, resembling an upside down question mark with a second period in the center of the curve, "That's not how the bond works."

Alex looked down at the palm of his right hand, tracing the mirrored scar on the center of it, curving up onto his forearm. "Still," and he slipped his hand in his pocket.

Leaning back and getting comfortable, Piermont asked, "So...how's Cyn, she okay?"

"Of course...why you ask?"

He shrugged, "Well, I know she lost her mate, I _know _that can't be easy on her."

"He's alive..."

"Yeah, but still M.I.A...still can't be easy on her, especially taking into account what we _know _Mabao is capable of..." then, "You know, it's really important that you're there for her. I know it may seem weird, but she _does _love you, maybe not as much as she loves him but..." and he shook his head, "Your proximity is important, even if you guys don't do anything like romantically. She needs you there for her right now."

Alex smiled, "I know, that's what I'm doing, right?"

He shrugged, "Dunno, I don't prod into your lives together. Ain't my business, if you say you're there for her, then awesome, I believe you. Girls are kinda funny though, they want you to be there when they need you most."

"I know."

Then, he asked, "So how's Sarah takin' all of this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like what's up between you and Cyn. She okay with it?"

"I haven't told her yet."

He chuckled grimly, "Don't you think that's probably kinda important if you want to marry her someday?"

"I don't imagine Cynder will want to stay with me that long anyway, not important."

"Yeah...cept that I'd say otherwise. That little bitch likes ya, a lot. Though even if you _don't _stay together, I'd still tell Sarah about her regardless. If anything to build up the trust, so that she knows you're not keeping secrets from her. I'm sure she'd do the same for you."

Alex sighed, "Guess you're right..."

"Hey, I may be a lotta things, dumb as a box of rocks, an arrogant, narcissistic ass, but believe it or not, I actually _do _care about your happiness. Sarah makes you happy, so if you want to keep _her _happy, I would not keep secrets. 'Specially since girls don't really like that very much..." and he frowned, "I know _that _from experience..."

Alex tossed an arm around his friend, pulling him close, "Thanks for caring anyway."

Piermont chuckled, "Hey, I got your back man, you know that," and he tossed the butt of his cigarette to the ground, drilling it into the asphalt before returning to his natural form, nuzzling his rider. Alex kissed the top of his head, hugging him, "Love ya, you know?"

Alex smiled, "Same here."

"No homo though, seriously." 

"Despite what our past would otherwise say?"

"C'mon, we haven't done that for years...besides, we were both awkward guys when we reached the 'curious' stage of our development. 'Sides," and he chuckled, "Not like there was any sexual interest when you gave me the old tug and pull. Really you were just doing me a favor, since I couldn't really do it myself, and I hadn't mastered my human form yet."

"I guess."

"Anyway, enough of that, happened a long time ago," and they returned to where the rest of Alpha Company was still waiting patiently. Other kids taking the college classes had begun to join them, though Alpha Company noticeably remained clustered together, at distance from the crowd, "Need to focus less on the past and more on the crap at hand. Need to find the little purple faggot, and soon."

"_You_? Caring about Spyro? Hot damn..."

"Hey, he's like my little bro. Not like there's any legitimate malice in how I act around him, part of the facade. Gotta keep face. Oh, and if you tell anyone I said that, I _will _fucking castrate you."

Alex chuckled.

"And, to add insult to injury, I'll cram your severed cock so far down the purple 'faggon''s throat that he suffocates."

"Jesus..."

"I'm serious."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it, I get it, don't tell anyone you're actually just a great big teddy bear."

The ride to the Connorsville Community College a dozen miles south of Ellsworth was long and quiet. Their bus driver, a substitute from the usual one that lifted them to and from, had the radio off, and silence lingered in the school bus' interior. Half of the kids were either asleep or doing homework, with Alex staring, dazed, outside the window at the harvested countryside rolling past. He couldn't explain it, but every time he closed his eyes, he kept seeing a strange scene: a rolling, sapphire ocean, sparkling in the sunset like trillions of tiny diamonds, the vision was so vivid that he could even hear the rolling of the waves slapping against obstacles in the water and the beach, and beneath all of that, the unique chattering of a distant pod of dolphins.

"Where are you?" a voice spoke up, startling Alex from his daze. Looking around, he tried to find the source of the alien, female voice. Believing it was just his imagination, he returned to look out the window, but not before it spoke again, "Why are you doing this to me?"

Casting a glance behind him, his eyes widened as he spied the source of the voice. Sitting beside him in the chair, hunched over, was a bloodied, beat up dolphin. She turned to face him, her left eye clouded over, her right eye struggling to hold back tears.

"I thought you loved me?" and she grabbed onto him tightly, her fins wrapping impossibly tight around his upper arms, "Why did you lie to me?"

"Who are you?" he exclaimed, genuinely terrified, "What are you? Where did you _come _from?"

"Don't you remember me?" she replied sadly, and he was aware of the strong, coppery odor of blood, "I am Ruby, don't you remember?"

"I don't...who are you?"

"You lied to me...you said you loved me, that you care for me...yet you're leaving me to die! How could you? I trusted you!"

"What is going on?"

"ALEX!" and the Commander shot up in his seat, breathing heavily, heart racing. Piermont, Cynder, Crash, and Cheet all stood around him.

"Are you okay?" Cynder asked, seemingly worried.

Realizing that the spirit was gone, Alex shook his head, sitting upright, his head pounding in his ears, "What's going on?"

"You okay, man?" Piermont asked, "The hell happened? You started mutterin' somethin' and when I touched you it's like..." and he shook his head, "I know that touchin' somebody while they're sleeping shocks the hell outta you and throws you into their dreamworld but that...what was that?"

"I'm not sure..." he replied, voice trailing.

"Well, I hope to God that...whatever that is...don't come back, or hit us. Cause that was fuckin' horrifying."

"What did you see?" Cynder asked.

Piermont smiled grimly, "Looked like a roadkilled fish, not flat but...yeah..."

"What the hell?" Cheet asked.

"Hell if I know, bud," and Piermont nodded towards Alex, "Anyway, we're there...let's go."

As they stepped off the bus, walking across campus to the building where their classes, Culinary Arts, we're being held, Alex couldn't shake an eerie, electric feeling around him. There was a presence lingering around, and he couldn't help but fear that it was the same nightmarish entity that had approached him in his apparent dream, although he didn't know he had drifted off. All through the class, he wasn't paying attention to what his instructor was teaching: going over specific types and styles of cutting vegetables. Instead, he scoured through his memories, trying to figure out where he could have met the bloodied dolphin before. If it was a spirit, why was it haunting _him_. He couldn't ever recall dealing with the animal before. Yeah, he had been to dolphin shows during the time that he and the fledgling Alpha Company still lived with his parents, shortly after the militia's creation and independence, but never could he recall being in such close proximity to one, nor could he figure out why it would be targeting him. He had never killed one before, he hadn't even been in the position _to _kill one. Yet, the familiarity of the creature still tugged at him heavily, he could have sworn he had seen her before, not in such a bloody, gory state, of course. Who was she?

Then he remembered her name.

Ruby? Why did that name sound familiar? Where had he heard it before? Why was there a certain familiarity attached to it. With a sigh, he shook his head, forcing himself to return to the real world.

"You remember me?" that eerie, cold voice spoke again, and Alex stiffened, the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight. The smell of blood, and faintly of electricity, reached his nostrils again, and his blood ran cold as he resisted the temptation to look behind him, knowing very well what he was going to find, "You remember me...and yet...you still stand here and watch me suffer...how could you? I loved you...and I thought you loved me!"

He ignored the voice, forcing his eyes forward, refusing to look at the ghastly creature standing behind him. Her grief weighed heavily down upon him, she was forcing her pain onto his emotions, wanting him to acknowledge her. Instead, he ignored her, as much as it hurt him to, he pretended not to notice her, hoping she went away.

"How could you be so cruel..." she replied coldly, voice sad and heartbroken, "You are my savior...I'm still alive because of you...but now I see you for the monster you are. I hope that my death will smother you, that you will suffer the pain, the loneliness, the sadness that I do. I hope you burn in hell for what you're willingly putting me through..." and just like that, the heavy, almost watery weight of her presence upon his body loosened until it became nonexistent. He released his unknowingly held breath, rubbing his temples as another headache tore through his head, quickly evolving into a migraine. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen, downing two with the bottle of sweet tea he had brought with him. Surely this creature couldn't be real, right? Surely she was just a figment of his imagination, perhaps created by some shell-shocked splinter of his personality? Maybe she was created by the stress of this war upon all of them.

Yet, and this was what really frightened him about her, she didn't seem to be imagined. He couldn't help but shake the feeling that she _was _real, and that she really did feel betrayed by him, for whatever unknown, likely unintentional reason why she did. With this realization, he once more found himself aware of that alien, unknown heartbeat, the unseen mutant, as he had taken to calling it. Mutants could sense one another, especially Alpha Company, so the fact that he could feel the rapid heartbeat of this unknown creature indicated it was a mutant, although he couldn't know how or why it was. Aside from the other companies, who received a dose of the serum that did not connect them to Alpha Company or even others outside of their respective units, everyone who had been mutated currently lived with Alpha Company. So where did this unknown heartbeat fall in? Who was it and _why _could he sense it?

Alex then found himself wondering if _he _was the only one who could sense it, or if anyone else in Alpha Company could, too. Given that no one had brought the subject up with him, or even around him, he could only think that either they _could_ sense it and were just unaware, or figured it belonged to one of their comrades, or they _couldn't_, and for whatever reason, _he _was the only one who could.

That night, Alex sat in the bathtub, hot water rolling down his body. The puzzle of this creature's identity continued ravaging his mind, and Alex, for a moment, considered trying to summon it, hoping to figure out what exactly was going on. Suddenly, there was a light rapping on the bathroom door. Climbing out to unlock it before climbing into the tub, he called for them to enter. "How are you feeling?" Cynder asked, slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

"What do you mean?"

"Well...about that nightmare you had."

Alex shrugged, "Been better I guess...I just...I don't know what to think about it."

"Mind if I join you?"

He answered in the affirmative, sliding over to one side of the tub a Cynder climbed in on the other side, sitting down across from him, "She came to me again."

"Really?" and Cynder seemed worried, "When?"

"Early today, in class. I just...chose to ignore her. She threatened to kill herself and said that she hoped that her death would hit me hard."

"I don't think she's real, Alex. I mean, it's probably just stress from the war and school that's doing this to you...plus with Spyro still missing..." and her voice trailed.

"I'm sure he's fine, Cyn. Mabao may be an ass, but he won't hurt what he deems as an asset..."

She walked over to him, climbing into his lap and nuzzling him, when her body started to jerk spastically, he realized she was crying.

"Cyn..."

"I just...I'm worried about him..."

"Me, too, Cyn..." and he pet her gently, "He'll be okay, I promise."

She looked up at him sad eyes, shining with tears, "You can't promise something like that..." and he interrupted her by kissing her.

"We'll find him, don't worry."

"I've never really had family..." she replied sadly, "Spyro...and now you...are all I could really call my family. I don't want anything bad to happen to him...and I miss him, very much. I know I'm being a great big baby, and I know that I shouldn't be over here crying but..."

"I understand, your family is missing, you don't know how he's doing, and you're worried about his safety, I know where you're coming from. Even if I don't necessarily understand how it feels, I know where you're coming from."

"When we find him..." Cynder began, "I swear to God...the shit I _will _put the entire _Maxia _High Command through, not just Mabao or 'Necro'. They will _all _suffer for this."

"You'll get your chance, don't worry."

"I'm sorry...for being such a big baby about all of this though..." and she blushed, looking away, "I probably look pathetic."

"Not at all. Seems we all got shit messing with us. You and Spyro's absence...me and this...revenant, this spirit. I don't know what she is. She keep saying that I promised her things, that I said I would save her life, and yet...and I've been thinking a lot about this...but I don't recall ever meeting her."

"Maybe she's that girl that's been plaguing your dreams?"

Alex suddenly sobered, real fear and sadness settling over him, "Oh God...I really hope it isn't. I don't want to hurt her anymore than she's going through...if she kills herself just because of me..."

"I don't think she would...I'd think that at least on _some _level, if she _is _real, she knows and understands your disbelief in all of this...you said she's a mutant?"

Alex nodded, "Yeah, I can sense her."

"Then surely she knows and understands why you're so confused."

"I just...I don't wanna find out that she came to me for help, that she saw in me a savior, or that God sent me to save her from that hell, only to find out that because of my selfishness, I killed her in the process."

"I wonder who she is, to be honest...you seem to really care about her."

Alex shrugged, "I can't explain it...but it's like she's an old friend that I haven't seen for many, many years. More often than not, I just wish I was there to give her a great big hug, you know? To just sit there and comfort her...tell her everything is all right."

"You've really developed a soft spot for her, haven't you."

He nodded, "Yeah, and it's not really sexual or romantic...I just...I want to assure her that everything is okay...to ease her suffering...I've never really felt that before, and it terrifies me."

"What does? The fact that this mysterious stranger has grown on you? Or the fact that you're able to grow on anyone outside of your little clique," and she smiled sadly at him.

"A little of both actually," he admitted, "I really hope she was just blowing steam and isn't actually going to kill herself," and he sighed, "I have enough shit on my conscience, I don't need that, too."

She nuzzled his chest, "I'm sure she will be fine."

He chuckled, "You're sure in a lovable mood tonight, aren't you?"

Cynder smiled sadly, "Spyro loves to cuddle...I do, too."

"Yeah...can't really blame you, don't tell anyone, but I'm a big cuddler, too."

"Can you mate me tonight?" she asked him suddenly.

He shrugged, "If you want me, too, yeah."

She nodded vigorously, "It's been really lonely lately...I just hope we can find him safely..."

"We will, don't worry," and he kissed her mouth again, "Don't worry..."

They were interrupted by a phone call from Elliot, and irritated, Alex took the call, "Vaughn here."

Cynder, standing upright again from her kneeling position, turned to face him, cocking her head to the side.

"I'm sorry...what now? I can't hear you."

Cynder rolled her eyes unhappily, laying down on the floor of the bathtub, resting her chin on her front paws.

"Fucking...yeah, we'll be right there..." and he hung up the phone with a heavy sigh, placing it back on the sink adjacent to the tub.

"What now?" Cynder replied impatiently.

"We'll have to get back to this later tonight...Elliot wants to see us."

Cynder sighed, "Of course he does..." then she asked, "Promise me we'll continue?"

He chuckled, petting her gently, "Only if you're still interested," climbing out and wrapping a towel around his waist.

"Oh..." and she smiled mischievously at him, eyes alight with a certain, infallible love and affection, "I don't think you'll have to worry too much about that. Oh, and I'm going to tell Elliot that he's an asshole for interrupting us."

Alex laughed, "You do that, sexy."


	25. Chapter XXIV: Turncoat

_**Chapter XXIV**_**:**

**-''Turncoat''-**

**-New York City, New York-**

**-**_**16 November 2011**_**-**

**-**_**0118 Hours**_**-**

Alex sat in the corner of the Hornet, looking out the small, circular window on the side of the machine at the brightly lit city below. A light snow drifted down from the heavens, lightly dusting the world beneath...something that he hadn't seen for years. Since the _Fiernes Curtain _went up shortly after President Mabao declared war on the Terminator Militia, the temperature around the militia's capital of New Alexandria maintained a steady ninety to a hundred degrees Fahrenheit of a dry heat year round.

He was suddenly aware of Cynder sitting next to him. She pressed her warm, soft side against him, warming his body against the bitter freezing cold of the unheated machine's interior. "Unbelievable that people can go on acting like nothing's going on..." Alex sighed, voice distant and distracted.

"Not everyone wants to see the world as it truly is. Some people want to believe that there _is _some good left in the world."

Alex smirked, his reflection ghastly and ghoulish in the clean glass of the window, the burns around his face giving him an almost corpse-like appearance, "Pathetic...ridiculous if you ask me. I don't see how _anyone _can live blissfully, believing that nothing can go wrong..." and he frowned, "I almost envy them, but at the same time..." and he smirked again, "Just means I'll live longer...be better prepared for when more shit hits the fan."

Silence fell between them for several minutes before Cynder began, "You know...I used to be like you...once upon a time." and she smiled sadly, looking towards the ground, lost in thought, "Malefor would often have me scope out destinations for future operations before I acted, I would be tasked to infiltrate and observe, map out potential strong and weak points for our opposition. Often I slipped in under the cover of darkness, no one knew I was there. As I would sit there, I would see them walking past, oblivious to the world that ravaged the rest of the world. We would send in spies, and they would say that the mindset was mostly 'if it's not us, we don't care'. They believed that just because the war hadn't reach them yet, they were exempt from any real danger..."

"What happened?"

"The day of the attacks came..."

"And?"

She turned to face him, and he was aware of a very dark, deep, animalian, homicidal look in her eyes, something entirely alien to her usual personality, and frightening. With a grim smile, the look of a killer, she replied, bearing her fangs, "I killed them. Burned them to ashes where they stood. Even as they cried and begged for mercy...I made sure they suffered...and I felt nothing but joy. I enjoyed spilling blood, enjoyed their suffering and their pain...then I met Spyro and..." her voice trailed off at mention of her mate's name. Finally, with a sigh, she continued, "Something...changed. I couldn't bring myself to kill him. I found...I guess...my humanity if you will..."

Alex chuckled grimly, "Humanity. Everyone acts like humanity is a blessing, the epitome of good, purity, and light. You know what the truth is? Humanity is nothing more than an elaborate, malicious concept. Pretending that you're acting and committing atrocities for the greater good, when in actuality, it's all a scam to push your own selfish agenda. We shake one hand, while planting a knife in your back with the other."

Cynder smiled, "Not all humans are like that."

"Bullshit we're not."

"You're not, are you?"

Silence fell for several moments before Alex smiled madly, "I'm hardly human. That's what happens when you spend most of your life, including your entire childhood, on the battlefield."

"Sometimes I wonder if you're just fooling yourself. Trying to make yourself tougher than you really are. You walk around acting like your some infallible badass with no definable weakness, and yet I know first-hand that's not true. Beneath that stone cold shell, you're nothing more than a kid with a heart of gold who is only looking out for his family, who only has the best of his brothers and sisters in mind."

"Yeah right..."

She nuzzled him affectionately, her warm body beginning to vibrate with soft purring, "You've showed me first hand."

He sighed, falling silent.

"Yo, Alex," Piermont began, sitting across from Alex, ruining the moment, "You know why the _fuck _we're out here?"

"There's a defector from the _Maxia_, he's not a major officer, but he's got some rank in the regime, he's willing to give us everything he's got in exchange for some protection."

"Protection? From what?" Cynder asked.

"Apparently he pissed off someone, damned if I know...that's all he told me."

"Where is the guy hiding out at?" Piermont asked.

"A suite he rented on the penthouse floor of a hotel overlooking Times Square."

"So what exactly is the mission?"

"Go in, meet with the defector, extract him. Simple enough."

"Yeah, well in case you forgot, shit ain't ever 'simple' with us. What can go wrong _will _go wrong, that's practically our goddamn philosophy."

"Try to have a little hope, okay?" Alex asked. Cynder sent him a sly, victorious smile, and the Commander only shook his head, returning his attention back towards the city outside.

The Hornet landed on the helipad built upon the roof of the hotel where their contact was meeting them. As they hopped out of the machine, walking across the roof towards the door heading into the building, Alex readied his AK47, "Here's the deal," he began, "If everything goes as planned, we go in, meet the guy, get him back to the Hornet, and boom, we're good. In the event that things go haywire, or we walk into an ambush, Tails is instructed to move our bird to a secondary LZ about a quarter mile down the street. You've got guns, you've got ammo, don't be afraid to use them if we have to. However, we need the defector _alive_, understand? Now, let's move!"

They entered the hotel, descending down the wood stairs to the penthouse floor. Upon emerging into the warm building, they were greeted by a luxurious sight. A massive crystal chandelier dangled on a chain over a rotunda overlooking the five floors of the building. Red carpet was laid throughout the floor, and the walls were covered in a flora pattern wallpaper. "Kinda reminds me of a fancier Club Camelot," Cheet chuckled, walking beside Alex, the adult cheetah's limp right now more pronounced than usual. Alex's own arthritis was acting up, giving his left leg a slight limp, thanks to the humidity in the air, but he forced himself to tolerate it and prevented it from affecting his performance. If they _were _walking into an ambush, which was always likely, he needed to be ready to shoot his way out, and he couldn't let his inflamed joints get in the way.

They paused just before Suite 4, their informant's location, and with Piermont hugging one side of the door, ready to breach if necessary and Cynder taking the other side, Alex knocked on the door, asking, "Brutus? Are you home?"

"Every time lightning flashes..." a raspy voice began on the other hand.

"...A Thunderbird takes flight," Alex responded, and the door unbolted before slowly opening, revealing a man, about late fifties, hunched forward and standing just inside, nodding for their entry.

"Commander Vaughn..." the man began, walking forward, gently relieving the safety of his M16 and placing it on the counter immediately left of the door, "Good to see you, can I interest you in some tea?" and he picked up a steaming piece of fine china from the counter, sitting beside the weapon, disappearing into the bowels of his room.

"General Elliot said you needed some help?"

He swiftly nodded, sitting down in an expensive armchair, crossing his legs before him and sipping from his teacup. Classical music, specifically Mozart's _Symphony No. 40_,was playing over a CD player on the entertainment center across from him, and a fire burned hotly in the hearth behind him, "I assisted General 'Necro' in the ARK hack so he could steal and leak blueprints to an undisclosed third party. The Tartarus Unit found out, and now they're after me. I've been on the run for several days."

"Wait..." Cynder began, "_'Necro'_ is the one who hacked the ARK and leaked those blueprints?"

Brutus nodded, "Indeed, with my help. There is a bloody feud going on between General 'Necro' and the Tartarus Unit. They are at war with one another, almost on a more serious note than the _Maxia _against the Terminator Militia...differing ideologies, agendas, and objectives most likely. Although the Tartarus Unit's general incompetence, lack of professionalism, careless and roguish behavior, immaturity, and tendency to disrupt and sabotage 'Necro''s carefully, almost obsessively plotted out plans probably does not help matters. The Tartarus Unit is primarily in it for the killing, to satiate their taste for blood, and the thrill of the hunt, whereas 'Necro' seems to have...much more personal, private, and unknown reasons for his involvement, and he's not liking it at all, really.

"The popular rumor is that Mabao is blackmailing him, or perhaps is holding something over 'Necro''s head in exchange for the general's complete and utter compliance. Currently, President Mabao is the only one keeping 'Necro' and the Tartarus Unit from skinning and flaying each other alive. Now, me? I was the head of President Mabao's Research and Development program. There, I discovered the truth about this war of his, and I grew a conscience..." he adopted a disgusted smirk, "And now I'm paying for it. Three assassins have been thwarted in the past week alone," and he reached under the ottoman sitting before him, sliding a briefcase out from beneath, picking it up, and slapping it down on the piece of furniture. "I am offering everything I have in exchange for protection from the _Maxia_, residence in New Alexandria, and a new identity."

Alex nodded, "I think that can be done."

"Good," Brutus responded, chair squeaking as he sat back, crossing his hands before him, "There's one other thing that I must mention as well..."

"What is it?"

Brutus frowned, "The _Maxia _are getting stronger...they've been whoring out a reverse engineered version of your mutation serum, capturing during the _Maxia_'s attack on your naval base in Chicago three years ago."

"The fall of Site Echo-Charlie...yeah, I remember..." Alex frowned, "Although I would have thought they grabbed it after they flooded Site Charlie-Bravo...that was once our primary research facility, in the middle stages of decommission when it was destroyed."

"That's not even the worse part," Brutus continued, "R&amp;D has also found a way to deconstruct your serum's properties and create an anti-mutation _poison_ that they have been coating their bullets with in response for the mutation of your troops. Although I am not completely certain, there_ are _rumors they have a new officer commanding their Elite Operations Unit."

"Do we have a name?" Piermont asked.

"Unfortunately, I can't say we do..." and a single red dot appeared over Brutus' chest, unknown to the older man. Alpha's eyes widened at the sight. "All I know is that they call him the 'Shade King'..."

"GET DOWN!" Alex roared, but it was too late. The crack of a Barrett M107 sniper rifle sounded and a small burst of blood sprayed out from the man's chest. He twitched twice before stilled, head rolling to the side, blood beginning to drip from his mouth, down his chin, and onto his white shirt.

"SHIT!" Piermont roared, and Alpha Company all hit the ground just as a helicopter passed by outside the window behind them, firing its equipped M134 Minigun through the window, decimating everything in the room.

"Grab the briefcase!" Alex ordered, "We need to get out of here!" and he tapped his earpiece, "Tails! The defector's been assassinated! Hope you're ready to engage!"

"Already know!" Tails spat over the line, "They're bearing down on me, and hard. I'm pulling back towards the secondary LZ, you might want to hurry up. There are a huge number of infantry storming the hotel as we speak!"

Alex, groping around in the darkness, found and grabbed the briefcase, crawling, prone, towards the door. He risked standing long enough to throw it open and charge into the rotunda. Beneath him, he could hear dozens of angry voices barking commands at one another, flooding the ground floor.

"Shit!" he hissed in a whisper, "Shit, shit, _shit!_"

He made a dash for the door back to the rooftops, the rest of Alpha Company behind him, Piermont to his immediate left. "Up there! On the penthouse floor!"

Several bursts of M16 fire rang through the air, one burst ricocheting off a convex mirror at the corner of the hall, just above Piermont's head. "Cripes!" he exclaimed, ducking beneath the raining glass, "Bloody hell! We need to get outta here!"

They stormed through the creaky steel door, outside onto the roof. They could hear the whirring of the gunship's blades nearby, but they could not see the machine itself. "Maybe we should have gone down to the street," Cynder replied, "Instead of back up here."

"Too late now," Alex replied, running to one end of the rooftop and pointing towards a distant hospital, "That's our destination..."

"Yeah? How we gonna get over there?" Piermont asked.

"You're a dragon, you can fly, right?"

"You kiddin' me? Too dangerous with the _Maxia _flyin' around, especially with poisoned rounds!"

"Never stopped you before."

They could hear more shouting from behind them, and a spotlight shined across the building. "I would try to fly you across..." Cynder began, "But even _two _dragons isn't enough to take _all _of Alpha Company..."

"What if we drop down?" Cheet suggested.

"You lost your mind, Brother? That's suicide!" Piermont scowled.

The cheetah nodded towards a part of the glass roof that was constructed at a steep incline. "If we can slide down the roof, the momentum should take us to the roof of the building next to us...roof hopping down to street level, then we can make a break for the hospital."

Behind them, they could see flashlights shining around the inside wall of the stairwell leading back into the building.

"Worth a shot," Alex replied, mantling over the rail, "Let's do it."

"Hell to the no!" Piermont scowled, "You guys are friggin' insane!"

"Have fun getting captured or killed by the _Maxia _then," and Alex let go of the rail. Instantly, he slipped and fell, sliding down the incline. "Damn it, Cheet..." he forced beneath his terrified breath, "I hope you're right..."

When he reached the end of the incline, he rocketed forward, flying across the alley, hundreds of feet below, and landing painfully in a somersault on the adjacent rooftop. Picking himself up, he looked up towards the rest of his companions, still on the hotel roof, nodding for them to follow. Once reunited, Alpha Company raced forward across the roof, just as the _Maxian _gunship flew into view. It commenced a strafing run, unloading on the fleeing unit. "GO! DON'T STOP!" Cynder shouted, "Keep moving or you're dead!"

"The hell you talking about Cyn!" Piermont roared, "We're ALREADY dead!"

"Jump!" Alex exclaimed as they reached the end of the roof.

"YOU OUTTA YOUR FUCKIN' MIND MAN!?" Piermont protested, "We jump and we're gonna splat on the goddamn street!"

"It's either that or get gunned down by that gunship!" and he finally reached the end of the rooftop, mantling over the railing and free-falling to a building across the street. It would be disastrous if he didn't time the jump just right. Luckily, he crashed through the window of the adjacent building, rolling to a stop on the floor of an office building, closed for the night.

"Find cover!" Alex exclaimed, running through the labyrinth of cubicles and diving inside one of them, pressing his body against the plastic wall. The helicopter lowered to strafe back and forth outside, spotlight shining through onto the walls at the far end of the room. "Don't move..." Alex ordered, and the rest of Alpha Company, following his example, remained silent and still. Once the spotlight had disappeared, Alex risked peeking out from cover, and seeing the helicopter absent, likely scanning the other side of the building, he commanded to the others, "Right, let's keep moving and get somewhere else before they find us again. They know we're in here, we're not safe."

He crept out of cover, making a dash across the office space towards the hall leading to the executive offices and stairwell. All the doors were closed and there were no windows in here, the only light being the exit signs above. Activating his night vision with a blink of the eye, Alex guided them down stairs and onto the ground floor. One whole wall, the one facing the street, was made of glass, and he could see the _Maxian _forces gathering outside, readying to breach.

"Shit!" he breathed, Diving back into the stairwell, "They're right on us..."

"Got a plan?" Cynder asked.

"Working on it..."

"Yeah, you might want to get on that. They're gonna be on us at any second."

"I say we shoot our way out," Piermont smirked, "They're standing between us and our destination anyway."

"Who knows what they have with them, though," Alex replied.

"What? A helicopter? We can outrun that shit, plenty of places to lose it. We're boxed in down here."

"Fine, we'll go with it," Alex scowled, readying his weapon., "Didn't want to get into a damn firefight."

"Boo-frigging-hoo, suck it up."

"Let's move, Pierre, this is your bright idea, you're on point."

"With pleasure," and he slipped out of cover, crouching for cover behind a nearby pillar. The sound of breaking glass filled the air, and they could hear the _Maxian _infantry rapidly funneling into the building.

"Spread out!" an unseen commander ordered, "They're around here somewhere! Find them and kill them!"

Piermont, grinning widely, pulled a smoke grenade from his waist, and pulling the pin, he whistled to announce his presence, rolling the grenade out.

"Over here!"

"Drop some smoke, send them to cover!" Piermont chuckled, tossing another smoke grenade further into the building before spraying his weapon in short bursts into the obscuring cloud. The others of Alpha Company followed his example, making their way in a zig-zagging motion to the where the _Maxia _had entered. Crashing through the window, finding themselves in the bitter, outside cold, they made a break down the street, hearing the gunship somewhere nearby, but not seeing it.

"Outside! Go find them!" they could hear the _Maxian _commander roar furiously through fits of coughing. Nearing a corner, the helicopter spotlight zoomed past them, and they dove a hard right into a vacant lot between two tall buildings, hitting the ground and laying prone. Thankfully, several trees grew in the unkempt yard, so they remained still, not moving, sticking to the shadows as the gunship scanned the streets ahead of them. A large number of infantry raced past, clicking on flashlights mounted to the barrels of their weapons and scanning the storefronts for any sign of the escaped soldiers.

"Thought you said we were gonna shoot our way out?" Alex whispered to Piermont, laying beside him.

"Changed my mind," he replied, frowning. Four _Maxian _infantry slipped into the vacant lot, scanning the tall, waist-high grasses with their flashlights. One-by-one, various members of Alpha Company launched out of the grass to pull them down, silently neutralizing them. When one of the men neared Alex, he reached forward, grabbing the man's ankles and pulling him to the ground, Alex violently pulled the man towards him, forcing a gloved hand against the man's mouth before reaching down to his waist, extracting his combat knife, and jamming the blade into the man's throat. Cleaning his bloody knife, Alex sheathed it once more, raising his stance into a crouch and began making his way to the bag of the lot. A tall brick wall stood between them and whatever lay beyond. He helped the others over the wall, Piermont being the last one up. The human-form dragon, straddling the wall, pulled Alex up and over before pulling both down onto the other side. They were no in an alley, facing the street. Pressing their bodies against the side of the buildings to either side of them, they held position behind the dumpsters, hidden from view. When traffic seemed to dissipate and the helicopter moved past, they advanced up the line, making their way across the street and into another alley, finding themselves in a dead end.

"Now what, genius?" Simba growled towards Piermont.

"We should be getting close to the hospital..." and Piermont looked around, spyingg a rusted fire escape, "Over there."

He jumped into the air, pulling the ladder down and began to scale it. The others of Alpha Company followed close behind, those who were unable to ascend it in their natural forms taking on their lesser-used human forms. Eventually, they reached the rooftops, spying their Hornet hovering across the street, engaging the _Maxian _gunship. The Hornet won, and in a brilliant fireball that illuminated the nighttime sky, the black gunship spun to its demise on the street below, conveniently blocking the way for newly arriving _Maxian _vehicles and forcing them to find another way past.

"C'mon," Alex began, turning to face Piermont and Cynder, "Need you guys to fly us over there."

"Rog..." Piermont began, and just as he was about to return to his natural form, they were all made aware of a whooshing sound from behind them. Before they even had a chance to react, a heavy, hard object slammed into Alex, knocking him through a skylight and into a darkened warehouse. With his comrades calling out for him above, Alex picked himself up, the cuts on his hands and broken bones on his legs healing in a flurry of blue sparks. He heard a gritty, familiar laugh, and Alex instantly scanned the area, turning on the flashlight mounted to the barrel of his own AK47, panning across the sea of crates and boxes.

"Who's there?" he growled.

He was attacked once more by the unseen force, knocking him to the ground. The impact of his fall discharged his weapon into a stack of crates and dislodged the flashlight, rolling across the floor to a stop. Alex looked up, heart sinking as he spied the light shining upon two small, purple feet.

"...Spyro?" Alex asked, reaching for and picking up his flashlight, shining it on the figure. Sure enough, Spyro stood before him, dirty, beaten, and bruised, with crusted blood covering his muddy face. His wild eyes relayed some sort of mad horror, "Spyro...you're okay!"

The dragon only chuckled, the madness in his eyes evolving into a burning, homicidal flame. With eerie agility, he vanished once more into the darkness, his wild laughter echoing around the room, "You will make a wonderful prize for General 'Necro'!"

Quickly retrieving his weapon and reattaching the light, Alex panned around the room, listening for Spyro's movement. He could hear skittering around him, the sound of things being knocked around, and Alex called out, "Man...what happened to you? What did they _do_ to you!?"

He heard movement behind him, and Alex rotated on his heels, grabbing Spyro out of mid-air by the wing and throwing him into the boxes in front of him. The dragon rolled back onto his feet, glaring at Alex with furious eyes, bearing his fangs in anger, "How dare you!" and he charged towards the Commander again with an angry snarl.

Alex rolled out of the way, landing painfully on his burned side. He cried out, shaking in pain as he picked himself up. Once more scanning the area for the escaped dragon. "C'mon, man! It's me! Alex! What the hell are you doing, bro? You're on _our_ side! Remember?"

He ducked right just as Spyro charged at him from his left, and Alex responded by firing towards the dragon. Above, he could hear Piermont roar a deafening boom and the world took on a blinding heat. Alex shielded his eyes as the room erupted into powerful flames, lighting up its entirety. Spyro hissed against the light, charging through one of the small windows nearing the ceiling, disappearing. Alex ran towards where he had fallen, spying Piermont's great, emerald maw poking through the ceiling. Upon spying the Commander, the dragon's eyes lit up with relief and joy, and he withdrew his muzzle, allowing Cynder to zoom into the room, landing beside Alex. The Commander climbed onto her back, holding onto her neck as she rocketed up and out of the building, eagerly flapping towards the secondary LZ, where the rest of Alpha Company was already piling into the Hornet, hovering a few feet above the ground.

Cynder landed just inside of the craft, Piermont, once more in his human form, slamming the door shut and sitting across from Alex. His hands trembling and shaking, Alex managed to remove his canteen from his waist, unscrewing the cap and taking a long drink. Spilling the remainder of its contents over his face, rinsing the grime off.

"Dude...what happened back there?" Piermont asked, "What _was _that!?"

Alex considered telling them about what had happened and who had confronted him, but at the fear of causing even _more _wrath to build up within Piermont's heart, and worried about how Cynder would react to the news, Alex maintained his silence, merely shrugging, "I don't now, couldn't see shit down there. Once you lit everything up, all I saw was a dark shadow race out through the window."

"Great..." Piermont scowled, "Just what we need, the _Maxia _to get their hands on a new type of soldier...as if we didn't already have _enough _problems with the fuckin' Elite Ops."

Tails called back to them, "What happened to the defector?"

"_Maxia_ got to him, nothing we could have done...those motherfuckers..." Piermont frowned.

"Damn it..." Tails sighed, "Well...Did you guys at _least_ get the Intel?"

Sonic grabbed the briefcase from beneath his seat, tossing it to the ground, "Roger, let's go back home."

Tails shrugged, "To New Alexandria we go..."


	26. Chapter XXV: Counterstrike

_**Chapter XXV**_**:**

**-''Counterstrike''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**04 December 2011**_**-**

**-**_**0610 Hours**_**-**

Alex stood upon his balcony, observing the city and the Burned Lands beyond. He couldn't quite pinpoint it, but something bothered him. Something didn't feel right about today, and he didn't know or understand why. With a sigh and a yawn, he turned around to head back inside when something caught his eye. He turned to face forward again, eyes widening as he spied several balls of light arch into the air above the city and come crashing down. With their electron forcefield still offline following the Hermann-Reid's last attack on the city, the objects struck their targets...they were under attack again.

With sirens blaring throughout the city and the jets starting to become scrambled, Alex turned around to run back into his suite and ready for action. Before he could, however, another series of shells struck Club Camelot, one smashing against the ceiling of the balcony above his head. He looked to the sky, eyes widening with shock as the ceiling came down upon him, burying him in the rubble and knocking him unconscious.

Alex, dazed, his body aching and stiff, slowly awoke from the void. With a groan, he shoved the heavy pieces of stone off of his body, his various injuries healing in the process. He slowly stood up, nearly collapsing again. He grabbed onto the broken banister of his balcony, lifting himself to a standing position, and he blinked away the dust in his eyes. To his alarm, the sun was setting in the west, when he could have sworn it was just rising, and the city was eerily quiet. Flames still burned from various buildings around him, the signs of battle were still apparent, but yet he heard no gunfire, no artillery fired on. Soldiers patrolled the streets below, but, much to his horror, they didn't wear the uniforms of his comrades...instead they wore the black body-armor of the _Maxia_.

With an exclamation of surprise, he stumbled back into his room, closing the door behind him. The power was out, meaning his alarm clock was not working, but he was able to get a look at his phone, resting on the nightstand, still untouched since where he left it shortly before he and Cynder had once more enjoyed each others company the previous night. "No..." he began, shaking his head, "This can't be right..."

The clock read shortly before 1700 hours...five o'clock PM on 4th December...when last he had checked, it had been shortly before six in the morning that same day when he had awoke from his sleep, untangling himself from Cynder in their post-mating embrace and stepping outside on his balcony.

Had he really been unconscious for the entire day? What had he missed?

He turned to face outside again, eyes widening in horror before he turned violently around, quickly dressing himself and running outside into the rest of Suite 1. As he had feared, it was empty, none of his comrades were home. Grabbing his weapon, he threw open the doors to the suite, running out into the dark rotunda of the exclusive military club. More _Maxian _soldiers patrolled the corridors below, and he could hear them communicating with command. New Alexandria had almost fallen, and aside from some pockets of resistance throughout the city, the _Maxia _had managed to take control over the majority of the critical, strategic points.

Alex stealthily killed a nearby _Maxian _patrolmen, dragging the corpse into a dark corner and quickly dressing himself in the fallen soldier's clothes. Now disguised as one of them, Alex, listening into their communications, said nothing as he took the elevator down to Club Camelot's lobby, casually strolling towards the double oak doors leading outside, hoping to figure out what had happened, and hoping to get out of the area before someone found the corpse.

Suddenly, a voice spoke over the radio, and he listened intently, identifying it as belonging to Observer, "All units, gimme a sitrep, over."

Xerxes replied then, "They're still fighting, but we're making ground against them. Alpha Company has scattered to the winds or gone MIA, this battle is as good as ours."

"Don't give them an opportunity to catch back up!" Observer growled, "Find them and confirm the kill!"

Xerxes sighed in annoyance, "Roger."

_I need to find the others before they do... _Alex thought to himself, _But where...?_

As if an answer to his prayers, his radio soon went off with the distressed shouting of a _Maxian _operative, "We have an uprising near the south gate into the city! Requesting reinforcements! Repeat! Requesting reinforcements! Over!"

He navigated through one of the neighborhoods, shelled and in flames. Stealing a _Maxian _truck, Alex started it up and sped forward down the crater-laden and burning streets, eyes wide as he passed through the aftermath of the recently concluded battle.

"I don't understand..." Alex said to himself, shaking his head in disbelief, "How did this happen?"

He was startled out of his thoughts by the explosion of a nearby building to his left, and he threw open the door, leaping out of the truck and landing with a roll as an RPG zoomed towards it, crashing through the windshield and exploding inside the cab. The entire front of the truck in flames, it continued on at full speed, crashing into a pile of debris with a resounding explosion. Silhouetted against the flames, Alex saw soldiers, their alignment he couldn't tell in the light, begin to shoot at him. He ran for cover, diving through the window of the exploded building and seeking cover inside. With a loud roar, he was alarmed to find a bright orange blur leap through the window, and Cheet turned around to face him, hair across his neck standing tall, hissing.

"Easy! Easy!" Alex managed, "Cheet! It's me! Alex!"

Cheet's vicious glare suddenly melted into a stunned smile, and as he sniffed the air, his eyes widened, and with a small growl of joy, he pounced upon Alex, hugging and kissing him relentlessly. "You're alive! We thought you were dead!" Cheet exclaimed, "Alex? Where have you been? We couldn't feel you in the mind bank or anything!" and he nuzzled up against Alex, rolling to his side in the Commander's lap, allowing Alex to rub his belly.

Alex laughed, "I'm fine,Cheet...just...preliminary shelling knocked me out, that's all."

"Really?" and he seemed surprised, "Why couldn't we feel you in the mind bank?"

"Not sure," Alex replied, "But I'm fine...really...where's the others?"

Cheet climbed off of Alex, "Follow me, I'll take you to them."

Cheet led Alex across town, eventually reaching a dark, lonely warehouse sitting by itself away from the rest of the business district. Cheet knocked, and answering the challenge issued by what sounded like Crash, the door opened, allowing them entry. Much like Cheet had, at first, Alpha Company mistook Alex as one of the _Maxia_, but after identifying himself as the Commander, he was surprised and knocked to the ground by Cynder excitedly pouncing upon him, kissing him hard and fast.

"Good to see you, too, Cynder," Alex laughed, petting the she-dragon and kissing her back.

"Glad we have someone leading here again," Sonic began, leaning against the wall, inspecting his hands, "With you and Spyro gone, Pierre can't lead worth shit, and Cynder wouldn't do much for fear of messing something up, maybe we can actually drive the _Maxia _back..." then he added, "What happened to you anyway? We lost contact."

Alex shrugged, "I was knocked out by the preliminary shelling, I don't know why you guys couldn't sense me over the mind bank..."

"He's here now," Cheet interrupted, "So now let's kick some _Maxian _ass!"

"First, you guys gotta tell me what all happened today...cause I missed a lot, apparently."

Once Alex had been updated on everything that had occurred, Alpha Company began to prepare for the counterattack against the _Maxian _forces that had taken control over several major points throughout the city. Alex was advised by Piermont and Cherub both to change out of the _Maxian _clothes, and was handed the uniform of a fallen soldier to replace it.

He cornered himself in a back room, away from the others and quickly undressed down to his underwear. Tossing the enemy uniform aside, he looked up to spy Cynder standing in the doorway, wearing a wide grin, "Well, aren't _you _a sexy one..."

Alex chuckled, "I try, Cyn."

"That's the fun part..." and she trotted over to him, "You don't even have to try, you just are."

"I love you."

She smiled, "I love you, too..." and she nodded towards him, "You know, I missed you. I was afraid something had happened to you, too and I just..." she shook her head, "I wouldn't be able to take losing _you, _too..." and she kissed him, slipping him her long, thin, sandpapery tongue.

Wearing a wide grin, he briefly flashed himself to her, chuckling as her eyes widened, her face drained of all color, and the smell of her arousal filled his nose. Eventually, her shocked glance morphed into one of mischievous humor, and as she turned around to leave the room, she stretched her body, leaning forward and lifting her tail high in the air, exposing herself very clearly to him. He laughed, "Oh sexy, when we're done here...you and I are gonna have one _hell_ of a night..."

She winked, "I'm looking forward to it...got a few kinks I want to try," and she sent him a sly smile before finally leaving.

Once he was dressed, Alex stepped out back into the room with the rest of Alpha Company, waiting patiently, maintaining their silence. Once reunited, they slipped back outside into the empty streets, heading towards Town Center.

"Okay," Cynder began, "Last we heard, the Tartarus Unit had captured Club Camelot and was taking up residence there. If we can fight our way to their and defeat them, we may be able to retake it and crush the morale of the rest of the _Maxia_, from there, it's as easy as chasing them out of town."

"Sounds easy," Rudolph replied.

"Yeah...if only it were. Who knows what stands between us and them right now..."

They made their way towards Club Camelot, relieving any pinned down clusters of allies they came across, recruiting them for the grand assault to retake the luxurious military club from the Tartarus Unit's clutches. When they finally reached the perimeter wall of the Victorian-style mansion, they were alarmed to see that, although the club remained largely intact, even against the shelling of the _Maxian _forces earlier that day, security was extremely tight, and had actually massively increased since Alex had sneaked out a few hours earlier.

"So what's the plan?" Piermont asked, "Or do you not have one...again," Alex growled, glancing towards Alex.

"Divide our forces into groups, move in, clear the yard, then push forward into the building itself, standard sweeping operation. Work our way up."

"Through all this security? You friggin' nuts, man?" Piermont exclaimed aghast, "We'll be fucked over twice before we can make a dent in their forces!"

"Got a better plan?"

"Well...no..."

"Then stop bitching and let's go!"

Once everyone was ready, Alex led the coordinated assault on Club Camelot, surprising the _Maxian _guards who quickly rushed out to engage them. With the grunts taking on the guards and keeping them distracted, Alex and Alpha Company flanked the _Maxian _forces out in the yard, storming the building from behind and attacking the squatters from the rear.

Regrouping with the grunts in the lobby, the combined Terminator forces stormed the rotunda, fighting their way through the thick _Maxian _concentration, making their way to the penthouse, where Alex assumed the Tartarus Unit had taken residence, and where radio chatter from the furious unit in his ear confirmed. "Funny..." the Commander began, "Those assholes won't even come down here to fight us, they're cowering upstairs."

"You're surprised?" Piermont laughed, "What else do you expect from those queers? Those lazy sons of bitches won't do anymore than they absolutely have to, in order to get by."

"Well then, guess we have a few surprises waiting for them, don't we?" Cynder remarked, grinning widely and seductively sliding her tail blade across her chest.

The she-dragon crouched forward, allowing Alex to climb onto her back, and while the rest of Alpha Company made their way towards the glass elevator, the grunts dispersing to check the other floors for _Maxian _troops, Cynder carried Alex to the penthouse floor. The Commander dismounting, he and Cynder stormed towards the open door to Suite 3, where they could hear a furious argument going on between both members of the Tartarus Unit. They quietly slipped into the room, sticking to the shadows and making their way through the suite, sticking close together, making their way towards the source of the voices, the bedroom. When both Cynder and Alex reached the bedroom, they pressed their bodies against either side of the cracked open door, and nodding to each other, they both stormed the room, slamming open the door all the way and racing towards the two half-nude gentleman arguing back and forth over the bed.

"Hello boys," Cynder replied, and both members of the Tartarus Unit fell back, crying out at the sight of the duo standing in the doorway.

Before they could have a chance to react, Alex had drawn his knife and was charging towards them. He pounced upon Observer, knocking him to the ground and placing the blade firmly against the man's neck. Xerxes moved to save him, but also found himself pounced upon and knocked to the ground. Cynder kicked him in the crotch, and as he toppled to the ground, she wrapped her tail around his throat, hovering the tip of her tail blade a mere inch over his eyes.

"You boys shouldn't be here," Cynder chuckled, "Hey, Alex, honey, what sexy things do you think we should do to these two idiots?" and she licked her chops, "Cut off their balls, feed it to our big cats?"

"I was thinking about doing the old ball-smasher maneuver...I have a sledgehammer downstairs...and I have to repay them for the shit Spyro and I were put through in Washington a couple of years ago."

"What...do you want from us!" Xerxes managed in between breaths, face growing bright red as Cynder tightened her grip.

"Simple...you leave here, you take the _Maxia _with you. I never want to see you two again, or I will personally make sure that you two suffer...consider this your one and only warning."

"Fine..fine!" Observer managed, "We'll go! We'll go! Just...don't hurt us anymore."

"Fair enough..." and Alex, with a malicious grin, climbed off of Observer, kicking the man in the side. Cynder slowly began to loosen her grip over Xerxes' throat, and after stabbing him in the abdomen with her tail blade, she finally tossed him away. Xerxes stumbled over into Observer's arms, and the two sprinted off towards the balcony.

"You will pay for this!" Observer growled, calling for their helicopter to arrive.

"We'll see about that," Alex chuckled, and he fired a warning shot towards the duo, terrifying them both.

Their gunship, as black as night, hovered over the balcony, dropping a rope ladder from the cockpit. The machine providing cover fire, the Tartarus Unit hastily climbed up the ladder and into the machine, and Alex, stepping back out onto the balcony, watched with a grin as it began to take off. The Commander fired several warning shots towards the machine, Cynder stepping out on the balcony beside him, and once it disappeared beyond the horizon, the two faced each other, smiling.

"You did good," Alex replied, "That was sexy."

Cynder chuckled, observing her bloody tail-blade, "Only because you were there with me...shit, now I'm really horny..."

Alex laughed, "Well, we'll have to fix that once we chase the _Maxia _away, won't we?"

She nodded, "It's a date."


	27. Chapter XXVI: The Passion of the Cheetah

_**Chapter XXVI**_**:**

**-''The Passion of the Cheetah''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**01 January 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0135 Hours**_**-**

Alex held Cynder in their post-mating embrace, kissing the tip of her snout lightly and hugging her tightly. She pressed her warm body tighter against his chest, almost melting in his embrace, "I love you, Alex..." she whispered to him, gently stroking his face and chest with her tail, her eyes, so full of love and joy, staring into his own.

"I love you, too, Cyn," he replied with a smile, and she kissed him, slipping him her thin, sandpaper-y tongue, "I'm so happy that we decided to stay together..." and she laughed lightly, "You know, for awhile, I was afraid that..." and she fell silent, "You know what? Never mind...good night..." and she got comfortable.

"Afraid of what?" Alex asked, curious.

"It's nothing, really...don't worry about it..."

"Well, I am worrying about it..." and he added, "What's wrong, Cyn? You can tell me anything, you know."

With a sigh, she finally admitted, "I was afraid that you wouldn't like me...or that you wouldn't return the same interest in me that I had in you. I mean...I liked you pretty much since the day I first joined...and I knew that you _seemed _interested in me. I knew that you might have liked me, even if just a little bit. I just...I didn't know _how _much you liked me...and when I started to develop feelings for you..." her voice trailed, "I was...I was afraid that you didn't like me nearly as much as I did...and I was afraid that I would scare you off if I tried to get intimate...I wasn't expecting you to enjoy this as much as I do," and she laughed nervously, "I'm not complaining at all but...or I guess I was hoping, but didn't think you'd be so accepting of me..."

"Why?"

She shrugged, "I don't know...maybe it's because I'm a dragon, you're a human...and...well..." she shrugged, "In the eyes of most humans, I'm nothing more than an oversized lizard, a scaly, cold-blooded reptile that's nothing more than just a stupid animal...but you...you don't think that way..."

"Cyn...you're every bit as human as anyone I know. There's a fine line between being a 'stupid animal' and being something that is as intelligent if not more so than humanity."

"Yeah? But you guys still look down upon us as inferior...it's considered taboo to fall in love with something other than your own species...I'm just glad that I found one of the few people that doesn't think that way, you know?"

He laughed, "Yeah, I do..." and he kissed her snout again, "But, I'm happy we're together...don't give a damn how people think about me and you together. Who cares? It's _our _life, not theirs."

Cynder smiled towards him, "And that's why I love you..." and she finally relaxed, sighing in content, curling into a tight ball in his arms and beginning to purr contentedly. Accompanied by the faint drone of her purring, Alex felt himself drift off, and he was overjoyed to find his nightmares once more kept at bay by the she-dragon's proximity to him.

"Rise and shine, ladies!" Elliot boomed, standing at the head of the conference table as Alpha Company sleepily piled into the conference room in New Alexandria's command center early the next morning.

"What is it, Elliot?" Piermont scowled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, "And can't it wait for another six hours?"

"Chill out, Pierre, you're gonna like what I got today."

"Oh wonderful!" the human-form dragon spat in a heavily sarcastic tone, "That means it's gonna be a giant, steaming pile of grade A dogshit."

"What's going on?" Alex asked, gently petting the sleepy Cynder, sitting beside him.

"Some friends in Africa need our help," Elliot replied, reaching for a thick, Cuban cigar from his jacket pocket, sticking it into the corner of his mouth, "Hopefully it ain't anything real serious...doubt the _Maxian _influence can reach that far, but who the hell knows."

"Where?" Simba asked, curious, "And why?"

Elliot chuckled, "Fort Savannah...I'm sure you remember that place very well, Alex."

The Commander frowned, "Unfortunately...it's been years since we were last there, however."

"What's Fort Savannah?" Cynder asked.

"It's where the LKA attacked Pride Rock from, way back on New Years of...'02 I think it was?"

"I think so," Cheet replied, "I was out of it for _most _of that time after getting my ass trampled by a bunch of stampeding wildebeests but...yeah, it sounds familiar anyway..." and the cheetah turned to face Elliot again, "So...what's going on down in Africa?"

"Dunno," the general replied, popping his neck, "They wouldn't say, only told me that they wanted to speak to Alpha Co. at the first chance they got. Figured with the _Maxia_...Christ knows where...you'd be interested in seeing what's going on. Good way to get outta the country, get away from the war for a little bit anyway."

"When are we leaving?" Alex asked.

"Approximately 0900 hours at the latest...or whenever your goddamn fox decides he's awake enough to drive a Hornet."

Tails, downing a second cup of coffee in under five minutes, merely gave a thumbs up, "Rog..."

Alpha Company's Hornet landed in the center of the shanty town known as Fort Savannah, located in the heart of the Sahara Desert. They climbed out of the machine into the blinding sun, shielding their eyes against the harsh light. They were then escorted across the village to the fortress' command center, finding its commanding officer sitting back in his office, a fan blowing on him, talking on the phone in rapid Swahili. Upon Alpha's entrance, he sat back up, lowering his feet from the table and hurriedly finishing his conversation. In a heavy accent, he began, "I was wondering when you were going to arrive," and he saluted Alex, who returned it, "Good to see you made it."

"Good to see you, Acacia! Long time no see! What did you need?" Alex replied, taking a seat across from the shoddily crafted desk, taking a drink from his canteen.

"I...have some news...that you may or may not want to hear..." Acacia replied, scratching his head, "It is about some recent activity that we have noticed around the area..."

"What's wrong?" Alex asked.

"We fear that there may be a resurgence in the LKA."

"Wait...what? What do you mean?"

"That is the thing...we've had increasing amounts of poaching within the area. Naturally, we try to prevent it when we can...but then they have begun to attack our patrols out in the field. I wouldn't come to assumptions so readily if it weren't for this..." and he slid a photograph across the table. It was of a man, charred beyond identification, but wearing the distinctive beige uniform the LKA once used.

"Damn..." Alex sighed, "I wonder if it could be tied to the same batch of guys that attacked Pride Rock ten years ago...I remember a lot of them got away, right?"

Acacia nodded, "Yes, we lost them in the desert...but why now? Why would they try to attack us now? That's the question."

"I'm not sure..." Alex replied, frowning and observing the image, "I thought we wiped them out several years ago...what the hell are they doing back? Where did you find this?"

"Near the ruins of their old compound...it's been closed up for years, presumably abandoned following our assault on the base once we finally found it. I can send a party out to escort you to the base, if you want to see for yourself."

Alex nodded in the affirmative, "That would be good...maybe we can track down and figure out what's going on...but I'm not taking all of Alpha. High Command and I will check it out, guys," and he addressed the other members of his team, "I would like you guys to stay back here."

"Why can't we come with?" Cheet asked, "We want to check it out, too, you know!"

"In case they show themselves, I need you guys here to keep an eye on things, okay?"

They all moved to protest but were abruptly shut down by Alex. Eventually, with an exasperated sigh, Cheet replied, "Fine then...we'll stay here."

"Good boy," and he ruffled the fur on top of the cheetah's head.

With the High Command absent, Alpha Company busied themselves doing whatever they could find to keep the boredom away. Cheet had gone off with Simba and Nala, strolling through the old fortress, exploring. Eventually, the cheetah excused himself, leaving the fort's perimeter and trotting along, finding an isolated spot in the tall grasses, near a rock to relieve himself. An unusual odor crossed his nose, being carried on the wind, and he stiffened as he heard the sound of shuffling grass. Finishing his act, he raised back from his crouch into a standing position, staying still, listening. He heard it again, and he, now alert, turned to face the source of the sound. A low rumbling filled his ears, and before he had a chance to respond, an orange blur rocketed out of the grass with a hiss, pouncing upon him and knocking him to the ground.

"What the _hell_!?" Cheet exclaimed, defending himself against the attacking cheetah, tossing it off, "What was _that_ for!?"

The creature crouched low to the ground, bearing its fangs in a hiss, its ears pressed back against its head. Cheet noticed an odd scar snaking around the creature's muzzle, finally disappearing on its throat. The two cheetahs circled each other, Cheet puzzled and unsure what to do, the other one crouching low, continuing to growl and hiss. It charged at him again, Cheet cried out as he fell onto his back, his foe standing atop him and pawing at his exposed face and body. Cheet swiped his paw across the creatures eye, and its hissed in pain, recoiling. Cheet took this as an opportunity to flip the creature off of him, kicking it in the lower belly and sending it flipping across the ground, eventually rolling to a stop on its side. Cheet picked himself up, grunting as pain surged through his crippled leg from where his foe had got him. The rival cheetah flipped around to right itself, briefly exposing its lower belly to the mutated cheetah, revealing its sex...female.

Cheet quickly stepped back as the female cheetah picked herself out, growling and hissing towards him. Blood poured profusely from a cut across her right eye, and with a snarl and another pounce from the female, Cheet finally turned tail and raced back to the fortress as fast as his lame forelimb could go, terrified.

Upon Cheet's return to the compound, the High Command had come back from their trip, and Alex was updating the other members of Alpha Company. Cheet, out of breath, stumbled towards Alex before collapsing to the ground, out of breath.

"Yo, what the hell happened?" Piermont grinned, "You look like you just saw a ghost, kid."

Cheet said nothing, only struggling to regain his breath. Eventually, the others of Alpha Company lost interest, and while they headed back to the command center, Acacia continuing to report what they had found, or hadn't found rather, in the ruins of the former LKA fortress several miles away, Alex walked over to Cheet, crouching beside him, helping the creature up. "You okay?" Alex asked.

Cheet shook his head, embarrassed, "No..."

"What happened?"

"I got jumped..."

"Jumped? By who?"

Cheet smiled shyly, "By another cheetah...a mean son of a bitch, too."

Alex struggled to contain a smile.

"Shut up, I'm used to fighting soldiers with guns...not...other cheetahs...besides, she hurts!"

"Dude...you got your ass kicked by a _girl_?"

"Shut up," Cheet frowned, "I'm serious..."

Alex bit his lip, unable to control the smile but trying to keep from cracking up in laughter.

Back with the rest of Alpha Company, standing around the command center's war room, Piermont, leaning against a desk, asked, "Where'd you go?" and he smirked, "Went off to get some private time with the pussy cat now?"

"Shut up," Cheet replied.

"Apparently he got his ass kicked by a girl cheetah."

"Alex!" Cheet exclaimed, aghast, "Why would you tell him?"

"What!?" and Piermont broke out into wild laughter, the others of Alpha Company struggling to keep straight faces, "C'mon, dude, seriously? You're shitting me."

Cheet said nothing, only looked away, thoroughly embarrassed.

"You're not?" Piermont sobered, "Jesus, man! Do we need to run you through basic again?"

"Shut up," Cheet replied, "I'm trained to fight soldiers on two legs, not other animals...what was I supposed to do? She was a hell of a lot faster than the people I'm used to fighting and not in the _least _bit terrified."

"A female cheetah beat you in a fight?" Acacia began, entering the room.

"Shut up, I know...it's embarrassing..."

"Tell me," the commander continued, "Did she have a scar around her face and throat?"

Cheet nodded, "Yeah...why?"

The man smiled grimly, "Looks like Keisha got you, too, huh?"

"Keisha? Who's Keisha?" Alex asked.

"She's a real tough one that's been terrorizing our patrols for weeks now. She's decided that we're on her territory. We have no idea where she comes from, all we know is that she just turned up here one day and decided to wage war against our men. We've tried hunting her but...she's a slippery one. My advice is to stay within the walls, just so long as you stay inside of our walls, she won't get to you. She's smart enough to..." and he was interrupted by a young man barging into the building, chattering on in Swahili, seemingly terrified.

"What's he saying?" Alex asked.

The man continued, this time in broken English, "Big army outside. Make camp."

"Do we know who they are?"

The man nodded, saying, "Wear yellow clothes. Army clothes."

"LKA?" Piermont exclaimed, incredulous.

"I don't believe it..." Alex replied, "We'll go check it out again," and he turned to face the High Command, "Cynder, Pierre, you two are on me. I want the rest of you guys to stay back here and keep an eye out in case they attacked."

Stepping back outside, they hear a series of cries of alarm from nearby, causing Alpha Company all to race towards the source, fearing the LKA had launched an attack. What they saw, however, was even worse. The militiamen fled from a crazed cheetah racing around the camp, acting as if heavily sedated. It ran into buildings and walls, stumbling drunkenly around, and Alex could see several tranquilizers sticking out from its body.

"My God! It's Keisha!" Acacia exclaimed, taking aim with his assault rifle, before barking several orders in his native tongue, saying to Alex, "I don't know who let her in!"

"Don't shoot her!" Alex spat, "Hold your fire!"

"Are you crazy? This creature is a demon!"

"Hold your fire!"

When several militiamen took shots towards her, Alex roared towards Acacia, "Tell your men to stop firing!"

Reluctantly, the commander relayed the message in his native language. Keisha lumbered over to them, Alex relieving the safety from his AK47 in preparation of whatever she decided to do. She paused several yards ahead, mouth hanging open, panting like a dog. She wobbled in place, looking to face the clustered Alpha Company, staring in shock and awe. Her eyes locked on Cheet, and she hissed at him before surrendering to the sedatives, collapsing to the ground on her side. Alex broke in a run towards the fallen creature, kneeling beside her. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, uneven, and he checked her pulse. "Damn it..." he breathed.

"What's wrong with her?" Cheet asked, cautiously approaching them.

"She's not taking it well..." and he counted the tranquilizers sticking out of her flesh, "Jesus Christ...there's enough in here to take down an elephant..."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that if we don't do something, she can die!" and he, mouthing a quick prayer, picked up the unconscious cheetah, throwing her over his shoulder and taking her back to the command center.

"What are you doing!?" Acacia asked, incredulous.

"Saving her life."

"But...!"

"She would just be put down anyway!"

"I'll keep her from hurting anyone...but I'm not going to let her suffer!"

"I'll have my men execute her."

"NO!" Alex spat, kicking open the door and gently lowering the creature down, unstrapping his backpack and digging around inside of it. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled out a medical kit, giving her a shot before replacing the kit in the bag, pulling out a small black box.

"No..." Cheet, who had followed him, began, shaking his head, "You're not...you're really not going to...are you?"

Ignoring him, Alex opened the box, pulling out a needle gun and loading a fresh vial of an almost luminescent green fluid. Placing the business end of the gun against her throat, he depressed the trigger, emptying the vial's contents into her bloodstream.

"Have you lost your fucking _mind_, Alex! She'll try to kill us and _YOU JUST MUTATED HER!?_"

"Cheet, go outside!" Alex growled.

Stunned speechless, the cheetah walked out, and Alex grabbed a dog muzzle from a nearby box. Forcing it over Keisha's face and latching it in place. Grabbing several pairs of handcuffs from Acacia's desk, Alex return to the cheetah's side, cuffing her limbs together so she could not use attack efficiently.

"Alex..." Cheet began, once more entering the office, "Acacia's mounting an offensive against that camp...he wants you to join him on the frontlines."

"What about her?"

Cheet, his face drained of color, replied, "He wants me to keep an eye on her..."

With a sigh, Alex stood up, retrieving his weapon, "I'm serious, Cheet...don't hurt her. If she wakes up..." and he placed a tranquilizer rifle, leaning against the window, next to the male cheetah, "Fiddle with this, put her down again."

The cheetah nodded, "I...guess..."

"Don't hurt her, got it?"

"Yes..." but Cheet's voice was weak.

"Promise me, Cheet!"

"I promise, I promise..." he sighed.

"Good," Alex replied, "I'll be back as soon as I can..." and he left, closing the door behind him.

Several hours later, just as Cheet began to drift off, he heard a weak, raspy, feminine voice speak to him, "Wh...where am I?"

His eyes shot open, and Cheet slouched back, trembling. Keisha was coming to, yellow-green eyes blinking heavily around the room with a newfound intelligence.

"How...did I get here...?"

Cheet remained silent and still, only staring towards the frightened female, who had yet to notice him.

"I...what I'm saying?" and she blinked again, "I hurt...everywhere...I can't...I can't move..."

She tried to move her limbs to stand, but they were heavy and clumsy. Silence fell for several moments, broken only by Keisha's labored breathing and the clink of her restraints as she tried to move, but found that the cuffs granted her very little movement.

"I...I don't understand what I'm saying...but yet I do...it's...strange..." her eyes finally stopped across the terrified Cheet, unknowingly holding his breathe. Her eyes widening, Keisha replied, "You...I know you..."

Cheet slowly placed his paw against the tranquilizer rifle by his side, already loaded and aimed towards the female. All he had to do was depress the trigger...

Breathing heavily, she tried to pick herself up again, groaning in pain, only to fall back down again. Her eyes displaying a certain hurt and fear, she continued, "You...you were the one who...who hurt me..." and she forced a laugh, "Strange really...you are the only male...that I've invited...who attacked me...instead of trying to mount...you are lost, aren't you?"

Silence from the wide-eyed Cheet.

"You are afraid...afraid of me..." and she frowned, "I can...sense it...you think I'm an enemy...that I want to hurt you..."

"You _did _hurt me..." Cheet replied, limping backwards, his arthritis suddenly flaring.

"Not intentionally..." Keisha responded, "What happened...to your leg?"

Cheet said nothing.

"Your called Cheet, yes? That's what I heard...those two-legs...humans...call you. They called me...Keisha."

"My leg was hurt a long time ago," Cheet finally responded, voice unsteady, "I was trampled in a stampede...my leg was crushed and I was crippled."

She smiled, "So that's why...you couldn't fight..."

"I didn't grow up in the wild," he replied, "I never learned how to fight other animals. I'm a soldier, I fight people...humans...not animals."

"You weren't raised...with your own species?"

He shook his head, "No."

She smirked, "It makes sense now..." and she collapsed again, crying out. Cheet cautiously approached her, helping her stand. She tried to step towards him, but only succeeded in tripping over her restrains, falling to the floor once more.

"You didn't mean to hurt me...did you?" Cheet asked, and frowning unhappily, he cleaned the crusted blood from her eye, hoping that he hadn't blinded her during their earlier confrontation. Her mutations had healed the injury, although leaving a bright, white scar across the lid, and as he observed the injury, he felt...strange...almost as if he was attracted to her, even though he didn't understand the concept or emotion.

"Did you mean...to hurt me...?" she replied.

"No...and I'm sorry, Keisha...you just...caught me off guard...and I...well, it doesn't matter," Cheet carefully laid down beside her, cleaning her ruffled fur. Once he had finished, he asked, "You must be thirsty...or hungry..."

She shook her head, "Release me?"

"I..." and he seemed worried, "I can't, not until I ask Alex first."

"Alex?"

"The human who was here earlier..." and Cheet adopted a youthful smile, "He's my friend, we've been together for a long time."

"Where am I?"

As Cheet explained their situation, somehow diverting into the story of his past, during which Keisha listened intently, not interrupting, they could hear voices outside, and Cheet was silenced as the door to office opened and Alex entered, Acacia and the High Command in tow. "Everything all right in here?" Alex asked, then, nodding towards Keisha, who had managed to put herself into a sitting position, "So you're awake I see."

"Can we kill it now?" Acacia spat.

"What did you do to me?" Keisha asked, startling Acacia.

"She can speak!?" the dark-skinned man exclaimed, "You mutated her!?"

"It was either that or she die painfully..." Alex replied, crouching before the muzzled Keisha and hovering his hand before her. She sniffed him, snorting unhappily.

"Listen to me," the Commander began, "I'm going to take your muzzle off, you have to promise me you won't attack anyone here, okay?"

She said noting, only glared at him.

"Okay?"

"Fine..." she managed, and the Commander gently removed the device, placing it back in the box from which it came.

"What is your name?" Alex asked.

"They call me...Keisha...they call him..." she nodded towards the male cheetah, who only observed, "Cheet...and they call _you _Alex, yes?"

The Commanded nodded, "Yes."

"So Alex..." Cheet interrupted, "What was the deal with the LKA?"

"They weren't LKA," Alex replied, "They were just a bunch of poachers..."and he turned to face Keisha again, "Are you hungry?"

Relucantly, she nodded and the Commander stood, leaving the office towards the mess hall.

"Wait...Alex..." Cheet called to him, standing in the doorway.

The Commander paused in his tracks, turning to face the cheetah, wearing a concerned expression, "What is it?"

"Can she stay?" and Cheet nodded back towards the office, "Keisha...can we take her with us."

Alex chuckled, "My friend, that's for _her _to decide..." and he jogged on, turning a corner and disappearing from view.

Seeing as it was too late to head back to New Alexandria, Acacia offered for Alpha Company to stay for the night, which they accepted. While most of them were given spare bunks in the officers' barracks to sleep, Cheet insisted he stay with Keisha for the night, claiming that it was so he could keep an eye on the female. Alex allowed this, and exchanging good nights with the two cheetahs, they were led to the barracks by Acacia, with the fort commander himself closing and locking the door behind him. Keisha drifted off almost instantly, but Cheet, laying next to her against the desert cold seeping in through the building's cracks, found that he couldn't relax. It wasn't that the female had him on edge, or that he was worried she would hurt him, it was something else that he couldn't quite identify. He felt...odd...he felt a way that he had never quite felt before, and he didn't know what to make of it.

It was almost like he was sick, he was running a low fever, although at the same time, he knew he _wasn't _sick. He couldn't quite explain it, only that something was very off. His senses were heightened, especially his sense of smell, and he was strongly aware of a peculiar aroma lingering around her. Trembling, he felt the impulse to identify the source of the scent, there was something intriguing about it. She sniffed around her body, eventually identifying the source of the odor as emitting from her genitals. Instantly, he felt the cogs of understanding snap into place, and he realized what was going on...she was in heat, and seemed to have been for quite some time. Suddenly, he knew that when she had attacked him earlier, it wasn't because he was intruding on her territory, in fact, she hadn't _tried _to attack him at all..._she had tried to mate with him_.

He remember the peculiar odor he had identified earlier when he had left to relieve himself, how, at first, it had been faint, almost like what he was smelling right now, but then it had suddenly gotten stronger. Remembering one of the things that he had overheard Alex's idiot biology teacher talk about in class during his section on animal conservation. Female cheetahs in estrous were known to urinate around males to alert them of their readiness to mate...had _that _been what she had done?

"So...you see now..." she began, her voice soft and small. Cheet was startled out of his train of thought by the female, turning to see that she was staring at him. "I can read it in your mind...you now see why I did what I did, yes?"

"You...wanted to mate with me."

She nodded, "I was lucky to have stumbled on the cream of the crop it seems...although I didn't anticipate your failure to acknowledge it."

"I wasn't raised around my own kind," Cheet sighed, "Like I sad earlier, Alex adopted me when I was still a cub. I grew up around Alpha Company. So sorry if the message didn't get through the first time..." he chuckled, "Cream of the crop, huh? I'm nothing but a worthless cripple anymore..." and he frowned, "I haven't even been able to fight effectively since I was hurt."

"Your injury doesn't affect your genetic code, does it?"

"Well...no..."

"Then you are still a prime choice for a mate."

Cheet laughed nervously, "Ah...but I don't even know much about my own species. How we court, what we do, how we act...all that fun stuff. All I know is what I've personally experienced."

"It simple really...restrained like this, I'm already in an ideal position. Mount me and mate."

"Huh?" and he was genuinely stunned.

"Must I repeat myself?" she raised her rear as much as she could, "Go on. Mount, then penetrate."

"Uh...like...here? Right this very moment?"

"Yes, what are you waiting for?"

"What if I mess it up though...I have no idea what to do..."

She rolled her eyes towards him, "Is it really too difficult? You can figure it out easily, now what are you waiting for?"

"But I..."

"I will forgive and forget any mistakes you make...but, please...if you're really so concerned about it, I will guide you."

Alpha Company left for New Alexandria late the following day, with Keisha, free from her binds, in tow. Thankfully, the female seemed more than willing to align herself with them, and never seemed to leave Cheet's side. Piermont, able to read the cheetah's aura, informed Alex that they had mated the previous evening, but chose not to make it known to the others, as if he really had to. Neither the inexperienced Cheet nor Keisha were very good at concealing their mating pleasure, so most if not all of the others of the unit had awakened several times that night to the radiation of pleasure from the couple. Still, they chose to act as if nothing had happened, mostly to preserve the already shy and easily embarrassed Cheet's pride. Add to that, the outcome was not really surprising to either of the members of Alpha Company, especially Alex, who could tell shortly after her mutation from the thoughts and feelings circulating through the female cheetah's mind and body that she was in heat. Given the fact that Cheet, a perfectly healthy, adult male cheetah, even if socially awkward among those of his own kind, was in proximity to her, given privacy and time, nature would find a way. Even then, Alex was honestly surprised that it took that long in the _first _place for them to couple, expecting instinct to have brought them together during the privacy they had when Alpha Company and Acacia's militia had left the base to attack the poachers' camp.

With their last goodbyes to Acacia and his militia, Alpha Company, now with Keisha, piled into the Hornet, the female cheetah remaining around her mate, always maintaining some kind of physical contact between them. Tails, downing another cup of coffee, handed the mug to Acacia and climbed into the cockpit, starting the engines and lifting the bird into the clear blue skies. As they emerged in the skies above the Burned Lands south of New Alexandria, Alex couldn't help but smile as he watched Cheet and Keisha curling around one another, cleaning each other. When the duo, having finished their baths, nuzzled each other affectionately, Alex turned his attention outside the window, towards the charred wasteland stretching out endlessly below, the glow of the _Fiernes Curtain _illuminating the nighttime skies, once more finding himself shocked at just how different the times were between the eastern and western hemispheres of Earth, and with this thought, he turned to face the _Ring_. The skeletal husk of the scaffolding marking the section of the weapon currently under repairs was visible from the surface, the working LEDs that hadn't been damaged by the hacked firing illuminated the ends of the missing section. With a sigh, the Commander turned to face Cynder, sleeping soundly, curled into a ball, her head in her paws. _Hello, _Maxia_, _Alex thought grimly, _We're home..._


	28. Chapter XXVII: The Gala

_**Chapter XXVII**_**:**

**-''The Gala''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**06 January 2012**_**-**

**-**_**1351 Hours**_**-**

"What did you find?" Alex asked, entering the command center within the heart of the military district. Laying open on the conference table was the briefcase that Alpha Company had obtained from their defector in New York. Elliot stood at the head of the table, leaning forward, hands planted firmly on the stained oak surface.

The old general look up to face the Commander, flanked to his left by Cynder and to his right by Piermont, in his human form, as usual, "Unfortunately," Elliot began, looking back towards the contents of the briefcase, spilled across the table's surface, "Most of this crap is either outdated or information we already have...we _do _have a few diamonds here though, things we're looking into."

"Like what?" Piermont asked, arms crossed on his chest, unlit cigarette bouncing around his mouth.

"Well, it looks like Mabao has been training _another _general, referred to only as the 'Shade King'. Claiming that he has 'quite the surprise ready for Alpha Company'."

"Rather obsessed with us...don't you think?" Cynder asked.

Elliot only grunted, "No shit. He has one hell of a fetish for you ladies. Anyway, we don't know anything else about this 'Shade King' fellow, only that he seems to be fairly resistant to Mabao's brainwashing techniques. The other thing we've found that's worth this whole stash, at least so far, is this..." and he pulled out a letter, typed on White House stationery, which he slid across the table towards the Commander. While Alex perused through it, the general continued, "Seems Mabao is hosting a gala next week for some major benefactors of his and some important folks in the _Maxia_. I have Bleu and Fox trying to get the High Command into it."

"Wonder what the party is about?" Alex asked, eyes never leaving the piece of paper in his hands.

"Not sure...but you can bet your ass that 'Necro', the Tartarus Unit, Mabao himself, and maybe even this 'Shade King' fellow will make an appearance. Get all of the _Maxia_'s commanding body in one place and you can easily put yourself into a position to take every single one of those sons of bitches down."

"Except I don't imagine security will be light...we won't be able to come armed," Alex replied, "And who knows if he had a deadline for reservations, since, if I were him at least, I would have finalized the guest list months ago...or whenever this list was printed."

Elliot grinned, "Well then, I guess it's a damn good thing that we have two amazing hackers leading our R&amp;D department, eh?"

"So..." Alex asked, "Anything else about Spyro?"

Elliot frowned, "Well...in here? No, at least nothing we found...in general? We may have some updates..."

"Really?" Cynder replied, eyes lighting up.

"Yes..." Elliot replied in an unsure tone, "But...eh...you're not gonna like it."

"What do you mean?" Cynder immediately took on a grim tone, "He's...he's not dead...is he?"

"No..." Elliot answered, scratching his head, "But...well, let me just show you these reports..." and the short, stocky man waddled across the room, digging around in a desk drawer for a few moments before returning to them, slapping a dossier onto the table, "See for yourself."

Alex opened the folder, frowning as he viewed the images and reports organized within.

"Seems that our dragonian friend is on the _Maxia_'s side now."

"I don't understand..." Cynder replied, "How?"

Piermont smirked, "I knew we couldn't trust the purple faggot."

"It's not like that," Elliot replied, "He seems to be...I don't know...brainwashed or some shit."

"Jesus...what did the _Maxia do _to him?" Alex asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Hard telling," the general continued, "I don't even want to know, in all honesty. Even _I _have been unable to brainwash someone into defection, and I'm notorious for my torture tactics..." he chuckled darkly.

"Damn..." Alex sighed.

"Good news, he may show up at that gala, too. If you can bag him and bring him back here, I'll see if I can figure out what happened to him and maybe find a way to fix whatever Mabao did to break him."

Cynder, appearing very worried, nodded vigorously, "God I hope you can, Elliot..."

Piermont chuckled, "You know what I find cute?"

"What?" Elliot grunted.

"The fact that if this were anyone else, you'd have every man at our availability out to hunt and kill the traitorous sonuvabitch. Yet, for whatever reason, you think that this little faggot is capable of being fixed?"

"This is too out of character for him to _not _be something Mabao did. He didn't stage this," Alex replied.

"Uh huh...and you know that...how?"

"I trust him."

Piermont broke out into wild laughter, "Are you fucking serious, mate? It's nigh-on impossible for _anyone _around here outside of your little fuckbuddies to earn your trust. So what makes this little bastard so special?"

Impatient, Alex sneered, "You really want my answer?"

"Yeah, I do. Because this is a crock of bullshit. Get your head out of your ass, mate."

"Because Cynder needs him."

The she-dragon responded with a visible wince.

"Frankly, I feel indebted to at least _try _to help him."

"Why?" Piermont asked, grinning arrogantly, "Cause she's dangling her puss over your head like its a goddamn fishing lure? You sure you're not thinking with your other head?"

Alex forcefully pressed his arm against Piermont's throat, slamming him back against the wall. The human-form dragon only grinned in response, the Commander was fuming, "I'm entitled to do a favor for someone I love."

Piermont chuckled, "Really? What about Sarah, huh? You told her yet about your little sexcapades with the nigger whore?"

Alex's mouth contorted into a vicious sneer, but with a low growl, he released his grip on the dragon, leaning against the table, breathing deeply, trying to control his temper.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

After several seconds of silence, Elliot asked, "You two assholes done? Are we good? Wonderful! Also, there's one other little thing I forgot to mention..."

Glancing towards Alex and Piermont, seeing they were in no mood to chat, Cynder turned to face Elliot, asking, "What is it?"

"High Command won't be going alone. This party also doubles as a sorta half-alliance, half-favor mission."

"What do you mean?"

"Yesterday, we had four young men contact us, saying they needed help with something."

"Which is...?" Alex asked.

"Apparently, the Tartarus Unit are back to their usual shenanigans. They've been kidnapping children for reasons unknown. My guess? Child soldiers, or leverage for some kind of planned hostage or ransom. Anyway, these four kids: a Chris...Vanderbilt I think? A kid named Kyle, his buddy, calls himself Peryite, and a Tyler Krushnic...their brothers were captured by the Tartarus Unit...they want us to help them. Figured since the T.U is confirmed on the guest list, you might be able to wrangle some information on the kids' whereabouts. You three will be joining up with all four of those boys in LA, you're going in together. Maybe you can help them out."

"Yeah...and how will this help _us_, exactly?" Piermont smirked.

Elliot chuckled darkly, "You may not have noticed, Pierre, but right now, we're highest on the public shit list. Any little favors we can do for people can help our rep start to rebuild itself. Eventually, good deeds will outweigh the bad. Plus, they may prove themselves as assets, or provide us access to potential assets. Plus, we're all nice guys here, right?"

Piermont only grunted in response.

"I'm surprised we're not taking Keisha along with us," Alex remarked, "She's in training, she needs the experience."

"Cheet can take care of her," Elliot replied, "'Sides, I got a little somethin' special for the rest of Alpha. Small mission, but should be beneficial to us nevertheless. I'm involving you guys because you are the High Command, the most experienced and best we have to offer. This is a high risk operation which can really help or hinder our progress in this damned war. We can't afford to send _all _of Alpha into the fire, we don't have the room either. The more people we try to put on the list, the easier our chances of getting caught, and _your_ chances of getting compromised, become."

"Easy fix," Piermont spat, "Send us and us _alone _in there, leave these four n00bs on the curb, give 'em a place to rendezvous after the mission and boom, we're good to go."

"Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way, Pierre."

"Why the hell not, huh?"

"Cause _two _of those kids, Peryite and Kyle, have already infiltrated the guest list. A third one, the Krushnic fellow, was already invited in the first place."

"Ruskie kid is defecting?"

"Looks that way," Elliot replied. "As for Chris? Well..." he chuckled, "You'll have to figure out what to do there. All we gotta do is get him on the list. Don't really care what he does afterward, but hell, maybe you can buddy up, eh? Every alliance, no matter how small or seemingly worthless it may be, is another point putting us ahead of the _Maxia_."

"Yeah, 'cept I don't think a random kid that nobody knows is gonna do much to help us take down the _Maxia _and undo the bullshit Mabao did to us."

"You never know," Elliot replied firmly.

Instead of being transported to LA via Hornet, like what normally was the case, the High Command were taken to an airport in an allied city, where they boarded a passenger plane to LA. Upon their arrival at LAX, they were directed to meet with their contacts at a nearby restaurant. Instantly, they found themselves staring at a small black dragon, currently engaged in cussing out the waitress.

"...Is that our contact?" Alex asked, confused.

"Oh no..." Cynder replied, her aura adopting a grim tone.

"What's wrong?"

"Skorpion..."

"Who?"

The black dragon suddenly stopped his rant, sniffing the air, and calling out, "A smell a bitch in heat..." and he looked right towards them, "Well holy shit, if it isn't Cynder!" and he, laughing maniacally, trotted over to them, accompanied by three human companions and another dragon, with dark pink scales and red wing membranes. "Jesus Christ, long time no see, huh sexy?"

"Who's this?" the other dragon, female by her voice, asked.

"So...I see you're still alive, Schakri..."

"Hell yeah," and he chuckled, "Ain't nobody gonna take me down...you look as tasty as always...whaddya say you, Charra, and me go back to my hotel and...catch up on lost time."

The female dragon chuckled, "Have to hand it to you, sexy...she does look a little...tasty...my name is Charra by the way, and this hunk of meat is my sexy beast."

Cynder scowled, "You haven't changed a bit...have you, Schakri?"

"Nah," Skorpion replied, wearing a wide grin, "You still make me all hot and hard...the shit I'd do to you..." and he clicked his tongue.

"Who is this guy?" Alex asked, impatient.

"Name's Schakri Marfedelom di Irlymi, friends call me Skorpion...who the hell are you?"

"Alex Vaughn, Commander of the Terminator Militia...how do you know Cynder?"

"Oh, we go way back," he chuckled, "We were Malefor's dynamic duo...kept each other company through those cold, lonely nights..."

"He's shitting you," Cynder replied, "You can keep on dreaming, Schakri."

"C'mon, sexy. You know you can call me Skorpion," he winked, "I can make you a big girl, just gotta give me the chance. I'll pound you so hard you'll be wanting more."

"Sorry, but I'm already mated."

"What!? To who?" and the black dragon said this with a tone of jealousy.

"Spyro...and this sexy beast," Cynder nuzzled Alex.

"You whore, you'd run around, fuck that queer-ass Purple Boy, then turn around and suck this human's dong, yet you won't go anywhere near me. Jeez, I thought you had standards."

"Oh I do," Cynder countered, her words toxic, "Sex-obsessed, sexist pigs don't meet them."

"Goddamn, you're pretty low then. Gotta have better expectations, I'm the cream of the crop, the perfect stud, even _Malefor _tried to get us to do the little midnight jive."

Alex, shaking his head, turned to face the others, "I assume you're our contacts."

One of them, the youngest kid in the bunch, looked to be in his preteens, had dark brown eyes with long black hair combed flat across his pale face. He was short and skinny, wearing torn jeans, muddy tennis shoes, and a black sweater, his hands in his pockets, "Name's Chris...not like it would really matter..." then he squinted, "You look familiar...have we met?"

Alex had felt the same of _deja vu _but had said nothing. _I remember this guy... _Piermont thought towards the Commander.

_You do?_

_Yeah...he was gaping in awe at us during 9/11..._

_How the hell do you remember that?_

_Magic..._

"Can't say we have..." Alex then nodded towards the other boys, "Who are the rest of you?"

The next one to speak seemed to be around the same age if not a year or two older than Alex. He had a tanned, deeply freckled face, large, distrustful blue eyes, and curly, fiery red hair. He wore a faded gray shirt, faded jeans, and combat boots, with his hands buried in his pockets. In a southern drawl, he asked, "Name ain't important to ya...just call me Peryite."

"Nice to meet you," and Alex extended a hand. The boy only looked at it, turning to face the Commander with a snarl, "Probably best we don't get too friendly now."

The third boy wore an arrogant grin, around the same age as Alex, standing tall and erect. He was dressed almost entirely in camouflage, with short, buzzed black hair, dark brown eyes, and pale skin. He was tall and thin, and in a thick, Russian accent he asked, "So you are the Great Commander Alex Vaughn, eh?" he chuckled, "Shit, I should just call you the Great _Cummander_, though I must say, your dragon is...mildly attractive."

"Oi! She's mine! You can kindly fuck off, you commie piece of shit!" Skorpion laughed.

"SKORPION!" a powerful voice called, "Hell you doing _this _time?"

The High Command turned around to spy the fourth boy approach them. He was of average height and build, with short black hair, brown eyes, a nearly flawless complexion, and was clad in a tuxedo. "I'm going to assume you are Kyle?" Alex asked.

"Lemme guess, you're Alex Vaughn?"

The Commanded nodded.

Kyle thrust out a hand, "Yeah, name's Kyle Reese, Skorpion is my dragon...hope you don't mind, brought him along, too."

"You're a rider?"

"You can call it that."

Piermont bust out in wild laughter then, "Kyle Reese, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, buddy. I've heard it before."

"Finally, someone who _actually _seems somewhat level-headed. Here I was thinking we were gonna have to put up with a bunch of assholes all night," Cynder sighed.

"Hey! I take offense to that!" Tyler exclaimed, the only one to speak up.

Skorpion licked his chops to her, "Ooh, you're into anal? Maybe a nice rimjob? Sounds hot!"

Cynder only rolled her eyes.

"Skorpion?"

"Yeah, Kyle?"

"Shut up..." he turned to face the High Command again, "Don't mind him, he's a dick."

"I know..." Cynder replied grimly, "I had the displeasure of working with the sonuvabitch."

"Really? When?"

"With Malefor."

"I am so sorry..."

Cynder only chuckled in response, "That's quite all right. It's fun pissing him off."

"Watersports? Shit, girl, didn't think you could get so dirty..." Skorpion chuckled again, "Shit, not my cup o' tea, but I'm willing to experiment...especially with you."

"Keep it up, and I'm gonna have to castrate you," Kyle replied in a shockingly macabre tone, instantly silencing the inappropriate dragon.

"So..." Chris began, "I assume you already know the situation then?"

"More or less," Alex replied.

"Good, cause I don't feel like giving the fucking speech again," and he thrust his palm forward, "Elliot says you got something for me?"

Alex took his time fishing the ID out of his pocket, purposely antagonizing the rude boy. Upon finally removing it and handing it forward, Chris scowled, ripping it from Alex's grasp and slipping it into his own pocket. "Good," he replied impatiently, "Let's get going."

"Now wait just a sec...we were supposed to be briefed!" Piermont protested.

Chris glared towards them, "The mission is straightforward enough, you're a goddamn soldier, figure it out. Elliot should have already explained why you guys are all the way out here, no sense in repeating the same shit again. The longer we stall here, the less time we have before Danny is killed."

"Danny?"

"My brother...now let's go," and Chris stormed out of the restaurant, the other boys following on his heels. Only Kyle remained in place, and he turned to face Alex, "Kid's kind of a dick, isn't he?"

"_Kind _of a dick?" Alex smirked, "Hell, I don't care. Let him lead the way, he'll be the first one to go down when shit hits the fan."

"Ooh, how cold..." then Kyle grinned, "Like it."

"Welcome to the team, brother."

"Let's get going before he gets his panties in a knot."

"Roger."

They boarded a limousine that lifted them to the site of the gala, a large, gated mansion in Beverly Hills. Upon arrival, they climbed out of the vehicle, flashing their ID papers to the guards at the gate. As they entered the compound, Schakri and Charra were barred from access. "Hey! What gives?" the black dragon protested, "We're on the damn guest list! Old Rick Swanson invited us!"

The guards exchanged bemused glances.

"I'm serious!" Skorpion scowled, "Call him, he'll prove it!"

After another exchange of looks, one of the guards walked away from his post, tapping his earpiece and whispering something. After several seconds, he returned, looking none-too-pleased as he nodded for his companion to step aside. "They're clear."

"No shit, we're clear!" Skorpion hissed before proudly trotting into the compound, Charra slinking in from behind.

"Jesus..." Piermont remarked, looking around, "Shit, Alex, why ain't New Alexandria this nice? Or at the very least, Club Camelot."

"Cause we don't have the room, did you forget how big the lot is?"

"Why didn't you buy more land?"

"Cause that's what was all for sale, dumbass."

Piermont thought for a moment before nodding, "Oh...that's right."

Alex only sighed.

The mansion was situated on a hill, surrounded by a small, private forest. An newly-paved asphalt road snaked up the hill, connecting the street with the five-story mansion overlooking it all. Eventually, they reached the front lawn of the immense structure, finding the driveway packed with people. "Well shit...looks like even the rich and famous ain't beyond a parking lot party..." Piermont snarled, "Cripes...we're gonna have a blast looking for our targets."

"Skorpion," Kyle began, "Did Rick happen to tell you where they were?"

The dragon shook his head, "Nope, said he couldn't, somethin' about these NDAs or some shit like that."

"So you're buddies with the Tartarus Unit?" Alex asked Kyle.

"WAS buddies with the Tartarus Unit," the boy replied, "Or rather, Skorpion was. Never trusted the bastards, especially when Mabao elected them as head of the _Maxia_...I'm politically neutral, and I know that Mabao has his points but...c'mon, even _I _know that the Terminator Militia ain't what the POTUS preaches."

"You prick," Piermont remarked, "That's homophobic."

"Go to hell," Kyle was quick to respond, "Ain't got no problems with gays, lesbos, bis, trannies, pannies, furries...whatever. My problem is when they develop these frikkin' god complexes...oh, and it also doesn't help that the Swansons are the 'bad' kinda gays, too."

"'Bad kinda gays'?" Piermont smirked before repeating, "That's homophobic."

"C'mon, if you're a soldier, the _last_ thing you need to worry about is breaking a nail."

"Are you fucking serious?" Cynder asked, dumbfounded.

"Unfortunately...they couldn't go through B.M.T because they were afraid of getting dirty. Barry just waived them, said 'oh that's fine! Who needs to go through Basic anyway'."

Piermont chuckled, "Welp, that explains a lot. No friggin' wonder the _Maxia _can't do shit against our forces. We're infamous for our B.M.T program."

"The only time the _Maxia _have ever remotely stood a chance against us," Cynder began, "Is when they mass-attacked us with the Hermann-Reid, or when they had 'Necro' leading the charge."

"Now 'Necro'," Kyle interrupted, "He's a badass. Infinite respect for the guy, I just wish he wasn't on the wrong side. Or rather, I wish he wasn't on a side, _period_."

"Will you guys just shut up already?" Chris spat.

"God damn," Piermont remarked, feigning offense, "Who elected _you_ squad leader."

"He thinks he's the _de facto_ leader, only cause he has some ROTC experience...even though he didn't even go through with it. Once his dear old mommy died, he quit."

"Fuck you, Kyle," Chris spat, "You don't know shit about my life."

Peryite sighed, "Y'know, ya might be able to learn a thing 'er two from Vaughn. Least he ain't over here bitchin' an' moanin'."

"Fuck you, 'Peryite'."

"Nah, that's my responsibility," Skorpion grinned, "Hey, I ain't gonna lie...I'm bi-curious."

Kyle grinned, "Most you're gonna get outta me is a ruboff."

"Aww...no circle jerk?"

"Don't push your luck."

"What about a little sucky sucky?"

"SHUT UP!" Chris growled, "I'm serious. Everybody just _SHUT UP_."

"If anyone should be squad leader, it should be the _Son of Satan_," Tyler chuckled.

"Wow, complimented by the ruskie, that's an achievement," Charra chuckled.

"Hey, sometimes I like to be the good guy."

"Jeez, you guys act like you've known each other for years," Cynder spoke.

"Nah, we've known each other for...eh...all of two days. When you're stuck in this cheap-arse motel room together, not even with complimentary cable...what more can you do but sit around and bullshit about your life," Tyler continued, "But yes, the emo freak is ROTC, and I'm also reserved officer training. Honestly though? I think I'd make a better squad leader than him."

"Fuck off," Chris scowled.

"Is that literally the only thing you can say?" Piermont grinned, "Shit, you're a broken record."

"Go to hell."

"Ooh! Something different!"

Chris, with an exasperated sigh, fell silent, ignoring them.

The High Command, accompanied by the quartet of kids with them, entered through the oak, double doors of the mansion's entrance, finding themselves in an expansive foyer, filled with people. The floors were beige ceramic tile, the walls a cream-colored stucco, potted topiaries were spaced evenly aroudn the perimeter of the room. Directly across from the doors was a grand double staircase, with an arch window centered above where the stairs ended on the loft. A live band performed various Classical pieces from a nearby dining hall. "This is gonna be fun..." Piermont whispered to Alex, "Feel so out of place in this land of socialites..."

"Made even better that _all _of these people are either _Maxia_ or _Maxian _loyalists...watch yourselves."

"Rog..."

"Where did that Chris kid go?" Tyler asked, looking around.

"Come to think of it, Peryite ran off, too," Kyle growled.

"Same with Skorpion and Charra," Tyler replied.

Kyle chuckled, "Knowing them, they ran off somewhere to fuck each others brains out, they're fine..."

"Who cares about 'em," Alex replied, nodding towards the kids, "Let's just look for any sign of the Tartarus Unit and your guys' brothers."

"Keep an eye out for Spyro, also," Cynder replied.

"That, too," Alex reached into his pocket, handing each of the boys earpieces, "Use these to keep in touch with the rest of us...if you find anything, let the others know, got it?"

"Yup," Kyle replied.

"Roger," Tyler nodded.

"Excellent," and he nodded forward, "Let's party."

As Alex and Piermont, paired together, strolled throughout the bottom floor of the mansion, heading towards the backyard, Alex winced, scratching his face. The heavy makeup he had been forced to apply to cover his scars itched and burned furiously. Suddenly, they heard the screams of women from nearby, and turning towards its source, they watched as several women fled from the restroom, soon followed by Skorpion and Charra...with the female dragon's face dotted in milky white strings, giving away what they had just recently done together.

Piermont smirked, "Shit, man...here I was thinking you and Cyn were bad..."

"Nonsense...we don't do anything that often. Hell, you gonna talk about someone who's addicted to sex, look at Spyro and Cynder...they nail each other every night...or they did anyway."

"Yeah, and if we find Spearow and break his brainwashing, it'll be back to the ol' grind I'm sure..." Piermont snarled, "He really needs to learn to control his radiation of pleasure...I'm tired of waking up in the middle of the night to a hot mess cause he's enjoying himself a bit too much...Cherub's getting tired of it, too."

"You two join in the fray?"

"Only if we're awake, which is rare...since we're always so goddamn tired with the kid and all..." he shook his head, "Whatever...'riding the wave' ain't bad, but it sure as hell ain't perfect either...makes me sick to my stomach...especially when it's unintentional, unexpected, and basically unwanted. More like 'raping the wave', or being 'raped by the wave'."

"Yeah, you guys gotta do that for me and Cyn sometime," Alex grinned.

"_I _don't care, although you'll have to take that up with Cherub, she's the one that locks me out half the time, as well as Simba and Nala, and Kovu and Kiara...and every other goddamn couple we have, I lost track of 'em all."

"Think it'd be fun...never experienced it before."

"Well, if and when you do, be careful...it can get addicting...quite easily."

"What's it like, anyway?"

Piermont shrugged, "Riding the wave of pleasure is exactly what you think. You get every couple getting it on at once, we can exploit the radiation of pleasure over the mutual mind bank to intensify orgasm...also reels in the simultaneous climaxes of every single participant at once. Think of one great big, telepathic orgy where everyone cums at once and you don't just feel your _own_ sexual pleasure, but you feel everyone _else's_ as well, at once. To say it feels amazing is an understatement...but if you aren't prepared for it or expecting it, it _WILL_ knock you on your goddamn ass, and if you ain't careful, or you don't submit to it when everyone else reaches it, you _WILL_ get a serious case of blue balls. So, suggestion, when you feel it comin' on, don't hold back, let 'er blow."

"How do you know when everyone else is participating?"

Piermont chuckled, "Ah, you'll know, trust me. Anyway, you'll get it eventually, don't worry. Probably won't be till you actually get your _own _partner that's solely yours and not shared with anyone. The tradition for us couples tends to be that the first intimate encounter between a couple gets the benefit of riding the wave," he smirked, "Best part is...the more couples that get involved, the more powerful, fun, and fucking epic it becomes for _everyone _cause there's more sources of pleasure radiation, and more people contributing their pleasure to the mind bank..."

Alex paused in place as he he heard Kyle call him over the line, "Why don't you guys get on out to the backyard, looks like the Tartarus Unit is about to make a speech."

"All right," Alex replied, "We're on our way...oh, and guess what?"

"Huh?"

"We found Skorpion and Charra...looks like your friend gifted his girl with a...string of pearls...in the ladies' restroom."

Kyle busted out in wild laughter, nearly deafening Alex, "Told ya so! Anyway, I'll see you in a few. Managed to catch up with Peryite and Chris, we're all meeting up at the buffet table."

"We'll be there," Alex then nodded towards his human-form mount, "All right, it's showtime."

Alex and Piermont, rejoined by Cynder, navigated the packed backyard, strolling around the Olympic-sized pool toward the long line of buffet tables at the back, up against the hedgerows lining the perimeter wall. Kyle stood with the other boys, all sipping from wine glasses. Kyle raised his glass in a toast towards the approaching Alex, saying, "Goddamn, it sure pays off to look older than you are. No call of ID here, and these guys don't care about serving booze to kids."

"Probably because this is an adult party, with a very slim few exceptions."

"Perhaps..."

"Where's your dragon?"

"Haven't seen 'em," Kyle replied, "They're fine though, I'm sure. They can take care of themselves, and they were invited here legitimately anyway," he grinned, "Then I got an invitation cause I'm his rider."

"I'm surprised he bonded with you," Cynder replied, shaking her head, "Realm dragons don't develop dragon/rider bonds, usually."

Kyle chuckled, "Well, when you are bisexual for dragons and your beast happens to be a crazed sex maniac...magic tends to happen."

"You fucked him?" Piermont asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

"Nah, he wouldn't let me even if I wanted to...hell, he'd probably end up fucking _me _first. He don't mind a good jerk every once in awhile though, and quite frankly, neither do I."

"You disgust me," Chris spat, grimacing.

"Yeah? Sue me."

They all turned to watch as the Tartarus Unit, clad in intricately detailed, knight-like suits of armor, sans helmets, strolled up onto the stage, tall and proud. "Evening ladies and gentlemen," Observer began over the microphone, "President Mabao was, unfortunately, unable to make it due to a scheduling conflict, but he sends his love. He sent us in his place, so I think we can set aside the stand-up routine for a nice, pleasant evening beneath the stars to enjoy ourselves and otherwise loosen up the stereotypical stiffness of the gifted socialite that we're all guilty of," he grinned joyfully, "As an added bonus, tonight, we have fair reason to celebrate. What's the occasion, you may ask? Well..." and his pleasant grin melted into a sinister, malicious smile, "Tonight, we present to you the newest general in our growing family...allow me to introduce to you, the newly reformed, Commander Spyro the Dragon!" he stepped aside as Spyro stepped into Observer's place, hopping up on a stool so he could reach the podium. Unsure whispers broke out throughout the eerily silent crowd until Spyro, clad in red-trimmed, black armor and wearing a confident smile, that distant look in his eyes still apparent, spoke, "Evening everyone. Now, I know what this may look like, but I assure you, I'm on your side. My good friends, the Swansons, here have been a pleasure to work with, and we've been cooking up some special things for you..."

Cynder, her jaw dropped, exchanged a horrified glance with Alex, equally dumbfounded. Piermont, however, wore a twisted, furious grimace, and it was apparent that he was struggling to control his temper.

"If all goes well," Spyro continued, "This war will be over by Valentine's Day, and the threat posed upon us by the Terminator Militia will be neutralized. Together, the Tartarus Unit, General 'Necro', President Mabao's cabinet, and myself have been working hard these past few weeks on a plan that we're pretty sure is foolproof. The Terminator Militia and Alpha Company _may _believe that they can find solace in their presumably impenetrable capital, but I'm here to tell you that their sense of security is false. Several times now, the Hermann-Reid 1st Armoured Division has punched through their walls, and the only thing keeping us from crushing their little city is Alpha Company and Alpha Company alone. We now possess the technology not only to surpass their protective wall of fire, _but _we also possess a special poison, with which we are now producing _all _of our weapons and ammunition, capable of not only curing Alpha Company of their curse, but also putting them out of their misery."

"LEMME TELL YA WHY THAT'S HORSESHIT!" a booming, slurring voice spoke, and all eyes turned to the right side of the stage as Skorpion and Charra drunkenly stepped up. "Now," Skorpion continued with a chuckle, "Don't get me wrong...I'd love to take these guys down as much as the next guy but...uh...I don't think my little homosexual friend here," and he clapped a paw across the irritated and disgusted Spyro's back, "Will be willing to squash his former unit. Why, you may ask? The solution is quite simple really...he just wants to give both his girlfriend, the sexy, spicy _se__ñ__iorita _Cynder, and his boyfriend, the brave and noble Commander Vaughn, a little head. You don't believe me? Then why, may _I_ ask, would his beloved have journeyed all the way out here if not to get in line for some funtime?" and Skorpion waved towards the High Command, standing in shock with the other boys. All eyes were immediately upon them, and they could say or do nothing, only stand around, paralyzed and silenced by their horror.

"Anyone gotta camera? Wanna film some amateur videos? Make a little _mullah_, a littler _dinero_, in the process," he broke out in a wild cackle, "Bah! You know I'm just joshing you, they're good guys, aren't I right, Spyro?"

Observer, shoving the irritated Spyro aside, reclaimed his position at the podium, struggling to maintain his fury. With a homicidal grin, he said, "Looks like we have some friends that would like to play...what do you say we give them a warm welcome, eh? Commander Spyro, you can have the honor of being the _first_ to greet our friends..."

With a roaring challenge, Spyro raced towards them, and before they could react, Alex was knocked aside by his brainwashed second-in-command, opening his great maw to the sky and preparing to attack. Alex managed to squirm out of the dragon's grasp, but not before the beast's talons ripped into his arm, drawing blood. The Commander mantled over the tables just as Spyro unleashed a blast of flame towards him.

"Spyro!" Cynder exclaimed, tackling the purple dragon to the ground, "Snap out of it! It's us! Your friends! Your family!"

He kicked her in the stomach, tossing her off and flipping back upright, charging towards Piermont, who had returned to his natural form and was issuing his own roar of challenge. The crowd fled as Spyro took flight, circling around and spewing fire at Piermont's emerald head, snapping relentlessly at the small dragon.

Cynder rejoined the fight, plowing into Spyro's side and sending him spiraling into the ground. She landed, baring her fangs, and when Spyro flipped back up, charging towards her, the she-dragon effortlessly dodged his attacks. She rapidly countered, little more than a black blur, with a flurry of fangs, claws, and teeth. All of his attacks missed while hers landed cleanly, and even though she was beating him relentlessly, he remained steadfast, numb in his fury.

Alex took this opportunity to engage the Tartarus Unit, clashing with his old foes once again. Pitted two against one, Alex was stunned to find difficulty in keeping up with the kill team's almost synchronized attacks, apparently the unit had been training since their last encounter. When the quartet accompanying the High Command on the mission managed to corner and separate Xerxes from Observer, they took turns violently interrogating the lesser experienced man for information while Alex lured Observer away from his partner, closer towards the house.

"God damn it! SNAP OUT OF IT, SPYRO!" Cynder roared, tackling and pinning her mate to the ground, pressing her entire weight on his weak points. He flailed beneath her viciously, snapping towards her. She dodged both these and his breath attacks, never lessening her control over the fight. Placing her tailblade against his throat, she leaned forward until their faces were nearly pressed, "Remember me!" She hissed, "Damn it! Remember me! Remember who I am! Remember who _you _are!"

"Get off me you demon!" he hissed, "Get off me! Help! She's hurting me!"

"I'm not going to hurt you, Spyro...I...I can't..." she struggled to hold back tears, "Damn it! Remember! Snap out of it!"

"Leave me alone!" he shouted in a terror-stricken voice, his eyes wide with fear, "You're a demon! Stay away!"

"What did they _do _to you? It's me! Cynder! Your mate! Don't you remember?"

"I don't want to die! Don't hurt me!"

She interrupted him by kissing him on the mouth, "Remember me!"

This action seemed to calm him, although he continued flailing. Again, she kissed him, this time, slipping him her tongue, maintaining the contact until he had stilled completely, still breathing heavily. Finally, she broke the kiss, looking into his eyes, watching as the delirium slowly started to clear from within them, "It's me...your mate...do you remember?"

"My...mate?"

She nodded, "We made love beneath New Alexandria, shortly before the Hermann-Reid attacked, do you remember? You were captured by General 'Necro'...I don't know what they did to you...but listen to me. It's me, Cynder, your mate. We're here to save you, we're here to free you."

"C...Cynder..." and sense finally returned to his expression, "Cynder...wha...what happened? What's going on?"

"Do you remember me?"

"Of course I do..." he replied in a bewildered tone, as if he was surprised...and even offended...that she would even ask, "You're my mate, why wouldn't I?"

Cynder sighed in relief, visibly collapsing onto him, kissing him repeatedly, "C'mon," she said, "We need to get out of here!"

"I don't think so..." a voice spoke from behind them, and they barely had time to react before they were knocked unconscious by swift blows from a blunt object. Xerxes stood over the two unconscious dragons, tossing the bloody golf club aside. He was breathing heavily, and he stepped aside as Observer dragged the unconscious Alex over to Xerxes.

"Where's that damned green one?" Observer hissed.

Xerxes shrugged, "He flew off in pursuit of you."

"Well, I haven't seen him..." and Observer nodded towards the unconscious trio, "What do we do with them?"

Xerxes suddenly adopted a wide grin, "I have a few ideas...at least for Vaughn and Spyro...and I think you will enjoy them, as well."

Alex and Spyro came to in the middle of what seemed to be a forest, both bound in cuffs, laying on their sides, facing each other. A thick mist settled over the ground, and they could just barely see each other over the fog. "What's going on...?" Spyro asked in a weak voice, "Alex...what's happening?"

"Finally back to your old self again, huh?" the Commander replied with a grim smile before he sighed, "I...I don't even know..."

"So...the dynamic duo awakes at last..." Xerxes began, stepping out of the fog, Observer to his side. Xerxes proceeded to walk around them, hands crossed behind his back, while Observer stood in place nearby, loading a revolver.

"Let us go you queer-ass sons of bitches!" Alex snarled, "I swear to God, if you faggots don't I..."

"You'll what? Beat us up? Turn us in? We don't care anymore, you idiot," Xerxes chuckled, "We've seen and been through it all, I'm afraid. Also, quite frankly, I'm tired of you insulting our relationship as well."

"They only insult it cause they don't understand how beautiful it is," Observer remarked with a grim smile, still loading the six-shot, taking his time.

"I think you're right, John..." Xerxes continued, smiling widely, "Maybe they just need a little taste of how wonderful it can really be..." and he lifted Spyro off the ground, tossing him back down so that the dragon was facing the Commander's legs, "In fact...I think that is _exactly _what they need..."

Finally finishing with his task, Observer closed and cocked the weapon, relieving the safety and standing over the duo, the weapon trained on them, "Hey, Rick...they may need a little help you know. It's a little hard to do anything when their bound like that."

"Bondage...what a kink...personally, it's one of my favorites," Xerxes replied, stripping the Commander down to his boxers. Alex tried to resist, only to find the revolver planted firmly against his forehead.

"These are poisoned rounds, by the way. So try something, you're dead..." Observer remarked, snapping his fingers, "Just like that..." and he watched as his partner finally stripped Alex down to the nude, Spyro looked away as much as he could.

"How we gonna get a rise out of 'em..." Xerxes asked, straightening and scratching his chin, "They're too scared to really get the blood flowing properly."

"Spyro, my friend," Observer began in a twisted tone, leaning down in front of the dragon, "Why don't you give your buddy here a taste, huh? How many licks does it take to get a rise out of your commanding officer," he chuckled.

"That means you, too," Xerxes replied, revealing his _own _pistol, a Desert Eagle, and crouching before Alex. The short, fat man gently brushed the cold barrel of his weapon against Spyro's genital slit. After several strokes, it began to expand and bulge forward, slowly beginning to spread open and reveal the bright, blood-red tip of his penis. "Go on," Xerxes taunted, "Just like licking a lollipop."

"You demented freaks of nature!" Alex spat, trying to pull away as Spyro slowly revealed himself in full, hard and erect against Xerxes' strokes.

"What are you trying to do here?" Spyro asked, staring towards his commanding officer's _own _organ, still flaccid.

"I'm not doing this, this is ridiculous! Disgusting! What will this possibly achieve!"

"You don't do it, and you're dead. Then it'll be necrophilia, cause we'll still make you suck him off, regardless of whether he's alive or dead..."

"And if I still refuse?"

"Now hold on just a second, Xerxes," Observer began, "I've got a better plan..." he crouched beside Alex, unzipping his own pants, "You either suck _him_, or you suck me. Your friend? Or your enemy? How about that?"

"You can't make me," Alex replied grimly.

"You know that's no true, because I will _make _you blow, and I won't care how much it hurts. Here? You have full control, and he's your best friend! It's a win-win!"

"You'll just kill us anyway..." Spyro forced.

"Nah..." Xerxes began, "Once you two see how we feel...then we'll let you go about your own business. Easy peesy lemon squeezey."

"Alex..." Spyro began, "Maybe we should just...you know..." and he thought towards the Commander, _If anything, it can buy us time for a rescue...I've already told the others where we are._

With a sigh, Alex finally complied. Spyro gasped upon the contact, his body twitching uneasily. "There we go..." Observer chuckled, "Nice and easy..."

"Go on, Spyro...return the favor," Xerxes grinned, "I'm sure he would _love _it."

As Alex began to grow hard before him, Spyro finally complied as well, and Alex winced at the feeling of the dragon's hot, moist breath against him, and his teeth grinding against his length. He imagined it was Cynder, and was relieved to find that this eased the terror, even if just a small bit. As the session continued, it became a little easier to continue, and he was alarmed when he felt a slight salty taste explode throughout his mouth, feeling the dragon's body twitch against the roof of his mouth. Eventually, the dragon began to thrust forward, his breathing becoming rapid and spastic. They continued the administrations until, with a final thrust, Spyro gasped and Alex was aware of something hot and salty shoot from the dragon, filling his mouth, overflowing. Alex coughed and hacked as it shot down his throat, pulling away and spitting. He looked forward again, spying Spyro's penis twitch and throb, a milky white fluid dripping from the tip, down his length and gathering in a pool on the ground.

Soon after, the Commander reached his own climax, apologizing as Spyro recoiled against the onslaught, although, unlike Alex, he didn't spit when he finally withdrew. Finally, the Commander turned to face the grinning Tartarus Unit, "You sick bastards..." and he looked towards Spyro. The purple dragon was blushing heavily, unable to match his eyes, looking away in horror and embarrassment.

"And how was it, hmm?" Observer chuckled.

"Not bad..." Alex managed, and shockingly, as much as he hated to admit it, it really wasn't. Compared to other modes of torture he had been exposed to, this was nothing, and it was something that he wasn't necessarily inexperienced with, remembering some of the times he had pleasured Piermont in their youth. Although difficult at first, the longer it continued, the easier it became to handle, and now that the initial shock of his first encounter with Spyro was finished, in the event they were forced to do it again, it wouldn't be nearly as bad as the first time.

Spyro remained silent, saying nothing.

"Anything to add, buddy old pal?" Xerxes asked, kicking the purple dragon. Spyro remained silent, the blush intensifying as he curled into a small ball. Alex, unable to look anywhere else in his position, watched as the dragon's penis, now flaccid, slowly began to retreat into its sheathe, the slit closing around it.

"B-E-A-utiful!" Observer chuckled, lifting to a standing position, "Rick, help me get these two to the truck..." but they were interrupted by the distant roar of a dragon.

Sparing each other stunned glances, they hurriedly forced Spyro and Alex to a standing position, forcing them through the forest. As the roars grew nearer and the flapping of wings became louder, the Tartarus Unit pushed into the thicker canopy, hoping they could hide. However, in a flash of light and heat, the entire forest around them was engulfed in flame and the Tartarus Unit fell back, crying out against the attack.

"John!" Xerxes exclaimed, running over to the fallen Observer, "Get up! We need to get them out of here before..."

"HELLO MOTHERFUCKERS!" Piermont bellowed, crashing through the canopy and landing between the terrified Tartarus Unit and the still nude and bound Alex and Spyro. He opened his great maw, spewing a jet of flame forward, scattering the men.

"Fuck it!" Xerxes screamed, fleeing away, "I'm leaving!"

"But the prisoners!" Observer spat, rotating on his heels, wearing a furious grimace. His angry expression quickly dissolved into one of fear as he spied the homicidal Piermont standing before him, Cynder, Skorpion, and Charra appearing around them. Quickly spinning around, Observer took off after Xerxes, "Rick! WAIT FOR ME goddammit!"

"Should we go after them?" Cynder asked.

"Nah," Piermont scowled, "Let Mabao have his fun with them..."

All the dragons turned to face Alex and Spyro, the former having curled into a sitting position against the tree, arms hanging loosely against his lap, concealing his nudity. Spyro remained on the ground, curled into as small a ball as he could muster, his back to their allies. Cynder was immediately at his side, prodding him onto her back and asking as to what was wrong. The purple dragon remained silent, refusing to say anything.

Piermont, returning to his human form, approached Alex, standing over him, arms crossed, "What the hell happened to your clothes?"

Silence from the stunned Alex for several seconds before, "I don't want to talk about it..."

Piermont crouched forward, helping the Commander to stand, "We got Alpha coming to meet us at the mansion. The guards locked the gates when Schakri blew our cover, nobody can enter or leave. So Alpha's gonna clean up the _Maxia _there. Meanwhile, we're getting _you_, and Spearow back to New Alexandria."

"What about Kyle and the others?"

"Alpha's gonna help them look for clues to their brothers' whereabouts, right now, we're getting you and Spyro out...what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Alex repeated, "Just...get me out of here..."

As it turned out, the forest that the Tartarus Unit had brought them was only a quarter of a mile behind the perimeter wall of the mansion, so upon their arrival back at the rear wall, their Hornet was already hovering in a small clearing, waiting patiently for them. "How's it look Tails?" Piermont asked as he helped Alex and Spyro into the machine.

"Already dropped off Alpha," the fox replied.

"Good," Piermont responded, stepping aside to allow Cynder inside the craft, "Listen, Cyn, get Alex covered up, you go with 'em. I'm gonna stay back here and make sure that our 'friends' don't fuck us over anymore than they already have."

Cynder nodded, "I will."

"Good...take care of them..." and he slammed the door shut, smacking the side of the aircraft to signal takeoff.

As the Hornet lifted into the air, Cynder opened one of the lockers, taking out a dark green, wool blanket and tossing it to Alex, who quickly wrapped himself up, sitting in the corner of the machine, in silence. Spyro remained curled in the opposite corner, still facing away. "Are you okay?" Cynder asked.

Alex slowly nodded.

The she-dragon sighed, "Good...Spyro told me what happened...I'm sorry..."

The Commander shrugged.

"Listen, we'll make sure they pay for this...don't worry..."

As she turned away to tend to Spyro again, Alex interrupted, "Cynder..."

"Yeah, Alex?" she asked, crouching beside him.

He grabbed her head gently, pulling her forward and touching their foreheads, speaking telepathically to her, _As much as I don't want to admit it...I actually...I mean, I think I...enjoyed it...what's wrong with me?_

Cynder thought back to him, wearing a smile, _You've always been interested in dragons, regardless of sex. That's why you pleasured Piermont, right? You did the same things with him, didn't you?_

He nodded slowly.

_See? _then, sending a concerned glance towards Spyro, she thought back to Alex, _To be honest...I think...he enjoyed it, too, at least to some degree. He's embarrassed, true, and maybe you're both just in shock right now but...I don't think it was _nearly _as bad in retrospect as you both thought it was at first._

"You want me to turn on the radio?" Tails asked, interrupting their private conversation.

"No..." Cynder replied, "Leave it quiet for now...they've had a rough night."


	29. Chapter XXVIII: Tamrielien Coup d'Etat

_**Chapter XXVIII**_**:**

**-''The Tamrielien _Coup d'__É__tat_''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**29 January 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0104 Hours**_**-**

"Hey...Alex...?"

The Commander, having been looking out towards the Burned Lands, turned around to watch as Spyro slowly stepped out onto the balcony, hanging his head low.

"I...wanted to talk to you."

"What's wrong?"

Spyro shrugged, "Well, for one, I wanted to apologize for everything I did for the _Maxia_...they put me through some twisted stuff and I wasn't in control over myself..."

"I don't blame you."

"Ha..." then he added, "For another, I wanted to thank you for taking care of Cynder for me."

"No problem, man, I'm just glad you're back with us again, safe and sound."

He nodded, "It's good to _be _back..." then added, "Also...about what the Tartarus Unit had us do...I'm sorry for that."

Alex chuckled, "Don't worry about it, you're pretty good," although he said this in a light, humored tone.

"You're not so bad either," Spyro smiled sadly, "But...uh...yeah. I'm sorry for all of that, I tried to hold back but I...I just couldn't."

"I'm not upset, and I don't mind. It's not like we really had a say in the matter, the way I see it. Since we did it against our will, there's no harm in it. It's done and over with, all right?"

Spyro nodded, "Okay...fair enough."

Stretching and yawning, Alex headed back towards his room, petting Spyro on the head as he entered the sliding glass doors, passing through the white curtains, closing and locking the door behind him. For several seconds, Spyro remained outside, facing the door to connecting Alex's room to the balcony he and Cynder shared with the Commander. The purple dragon frowned, although the event had been shocking at first, something about the thought of it aroused him, and he wanted to get the courage to ask if they could do it again...at the same time, though, he was afraid of how the Commander would react. With a sigh, he disappeared back in his room, crawling into bed with Cynder, already sleeping. He curled around her, pulling her close to him, and as he nuzzled her neck, he finally drifted off into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Alpha Company was called into the command center early the next day by Elliot, and they sleepily piled into the conference room, irritated at the early summons. "What's going on?" Alex asked.

With a sigh, Elliot responded, "Looks like the _Maxia _want to make turn this conflict into World War III..."

"What do you mean?" Spyro asked.

"Our boys in the Gothics said they've seen some _Maxian _ships and aircraft doing patrols and flybys around the area. Looks like Mabao is taunting us."

"Why is he wanting to get involved in the Gothics?" Cynder asked, "I mean...I can't think of _anything _there that could even _remotely _be beneficial to him. That's why they're called the _Gothics_...they're stuck like five hundred years in the past technology-wise."

"I know," Elliot replied, "I'm just telling you what the reports claim."

"It could be possible that, because the Gothics, namely Rune, is one of our biggest allies and strongest supports, regardless of their strength, he thinks that screwing around with them will threaten morale for us," Alex said, "Course, anyone with any sense will see that all the little bastard is doing is bullying a few countries that don't even have the ability to defend themselves."

"Exactly," Elliot replied, "Which is why Alpha Company is gonna go down there and see what's up. We're not sure whether Mabao has actually moved forces in down there, but I want you guys to check it out anyway. We're losing allies every day...we need to keep the ones we have in good spirits while we still can. We send Alpha down there, it'll remind them that they're important to us, even if they aren't capable of helping us much."

"I agree," Alex said with a nod.

"However...there's one more thing..."

"What?"

"You need to be very careful, the little political bullshit going on in Tamriel is starting to bleed over to the other Gothic islands. Civil war is on the horizon down there, various nations aligned with Tamriel are splitting over whether they support the empire or the coup attempting to overthrow it. The theory is that Mabao may try to cash in on this tension by supporting one side or the other. If the _Maxia _get involved in the conflict, we will be on the brink of World War III. If they take the Gothics out from under us, there's no doubt they'll infiltrate the Regions, or the Realms, or Martaan...we're ill-equipped to take on a freaking world war. Were it not for the _Curtain_, we would hardly survive this little civil war."

"So, you want us to check out Rune?" Alex asked.

"Not just Rune, but Parmecia, too, and if you can, roughly check out some of the other Gothic nations, just to make sure everything's okay. We need to keep support high and keep Mabao out of there. Beta Company has agreed to temporarily settle some of their forces in major cities throughout the nations to ensure that everything is okay and the people there know we're on their side through hell and back. I've also moved some Gamma and Delta Company forces as well. Epsilon Company and a few wings from Beta have _also _moved into the Regions to achieve a similar goal."

"What about the Realms?" Cynder asked, "I mean...I know they're mostly neutral in everything...but I think we should at least have some people there to keep everyone in high hopes. They may refuse to take a side in the war, and they may refuse to say one way or the other, but I think if we can keep some armed troops down there, we can keep us in their minds, maybe even soften them up to us a bit as well."

"Also, too," Spyro added, "It'll keep Mabao from attacking them. Neutral or not, if Mabao thinks it'll help his mission, he will destroy them."

"This part of the magical little plan that you cooked up with the _Maxia_?" Piermont scowled.

Spyro sighed, "For the last time, I don't remember anything that happened between my captured by 'Necro' and Cynder breaking my brainwashing...considering that means my torture, too...whatever they did to me...so I count that as a blessing."

Elliot, ignoring the dueling duo, nodded, "Good idea, Cynder," then he turned to face the rest of Alpha Company, "Right, so I'll talk to Beta Company about leasing another wing or two out to the Realms, and I'll talk to a couple of Gamma and Epsilon generals about sending some units out there, too. Meanwhile, I want you guys to go on ahead and check up on our friends in the Gothics. Visit a few of their major cities, let them know we're thinking about them. You'll be leaving in an hour, dismissed."

The rest of the day was spent visiting key areas in Rune and Parmecia, the militia's two allied countries within the collective Gothics, reassuring the concerned kingdoms that nothing bad would happen to them. Alpha Company strengthened moral support in those nations as their citizens realized that regardless of what went on in the rest of the world, they would never be left behind to fend for themselves or forgotten. With Terminator alliances challenged every day as Mabao and the _Maxia _relentlessly tried to destroy the militia's reputation with alarming success, every last friendship they _could _maintain was vital. In addition to moral support, the network of alliances provided both funding, supplies, and troops for the militia, meaning that the loss of these assets only served to weaken the militia and make it harder to survive against the _Maxia_.

As night fell upon the islands, Alpha Company began to head back towards New Alexandria deciding to enjoy the scenery from their Hornet instead of utilizing the machine's warp drive, as they normally would. Flying over the Atlantic Ocean between the eastern continents of Rune and Parmecia and the central continent of Tamriel a thick fog began to settle over the world, weakening visibility. Once it was nearly impossible to see anything around them, they decided to activate the warp drive, only to find that it was malfunctioning due to the heavy condensation. With a scowl, Tails tried to pilot the machine out of the fog, finding that he had no idea where he was going.

"Great..." the fox sighed.

"What's wrong?" Alex asked him.

"Nothing..." Tails replied, "Just...this mist is really messing with my bird..." he tinkered with the machine for several moments before swearing, "Gonna see if I can get beneath the cloud, this is ridiculous."

He brought the machine down, almost through the fog. Beneath them, the machine's passengers could see the rolling fields of central Tamriel, the province of Cyrodiil stretching endlessly below. Preparing to activate the warp drive, Tails, wearing a grin, said, "There we go...next stop, New Alexandria."

As the drive charged and they were about to enter slipstream space, they were struck by something powerful, knocking the machine-and its occupants-around.

"What the hell was that?" Piermont asked, picking himself off the floor.

Alarms blared throughout the interior as Tails, rapidly pushing buttons, asked, "I'm not sure...we have an obstruction on our left turbine, seeing if I can figure out what's going..." and they were struck again, "Crap!" Tails hissed, "Right turbine is locked up! We're losing altitude!"

Another object struck the side of the machine, this time ripping through the hull and Piermont cried out as he nearly found himself impaled on what appeared to be a long, thick spear. "What are these!?" the human-form dragon exclaimed. Yet another dart struck the machine, this time ripping through the cockpit and narrowly missing Tails. As the Hornet descended rapidly towards the ground, signaling an imminent crash. They could all see, looking outside, a distant, walled city illuminated by torches. They watched as the silhouettes of giant ballistae against an _aurora borealis _continued to fire towards them shortly before they struck the ground. The impact was enough to send them flying around the interior of the craft, but the machine remained largely intact despite the impact, and most of them escaped with little more than a few cuts and bruises.

With various groans and grunts, Alpha Company climbed out of their wrecked machine, its members activating their night vision to observer their surroundings. As they stumbled around the foothills around them, they tried to identify where they were when a stern male's voice punctured the silent air, "Halt! Don't move!"

They abruptly turned to watch as at least two dozen guards ran up to them, all preparing to attack. "Now hold on a sec..." Alex began, only to be interrupted.

"Don't move! Don't speak! You are coming with us!"

Alex nodded towards his companions before, in a flash of heat and light, he launched a tongue of flame towards the guards. Several fell back in alarm, but the others were quick to retaliate, with the captain ordering, "They're mages! Subdue them!"

With a snarl, Alex led the charge against the closest of the encircling guards, finding himself not even able to reach them before he heard a whooshing sound and instantly fell a searing, numbing cold overcome his body. The sound of a blowing win filled his ears and he looked around, trying to figure out what was going on. Two of the guards, apparently battlemages, had turned to cryokinesis and were currently trapping him in a painful mist that eliminated the feeling from his limbs, making him unable to fight back.

When the others of Alpha Company tried to fight back, they, too, found themselves victim of the guards, and before too long, they were all upon the ground, paralyzed by the cold of the cryokinetic spell, semi-conscious. The attack stopped, and when Alex tried to pick himself up, he was stunned by a painful blow to the back of the head.

"_What are you doing?"_

"_We caught these trespassers on the border, we believe they were trying to illegally cross into Skyrim."_

"_What do you expect to _do _with them? What's the point in dragging them over here anyway then!"_

"_The closest keep is in Helgen, we're bringing these trespassers to be executed there by order of the Emperor, now step aside guardsman and let us do our work."_

"_Yes, sir..."_

Alex's eyes slowly opened, and he groaned as his heart beat painfully and powerfully in his ears. He looked around him in a daze, finding that he was in the back of a carriage, being carted across a winding stone road to somewhere unknown. He was surrounded on all sides by tall evergreens, thickly concentrated in the encompassing, seemingly endless taiga forest. Snow covered the muddy, stony ground, and a freezing wind blew through them, making the chilly morning even colder. Alex exhaled, watching as his breath appeared in clouds before his face. Slowly lifting from his daze, the Commander observed his surroundings, he was in the third carriage in a train, all seeming to head to the same place, and although he had no members of Alpha Company with him, he saw that he was surrounded by unknown men, clad in furs and medieval uniforms. They seemed to be a part of some kind of militia or military, and all appeared to be prisoners. It was here that the Commander also noticed that not only was he gagged, but his hands were tied together before him by thick, scratchy rope, his feet shackled to the deck of the wagon.

Although aware, he was heavily sedated, no doubt to neutralize his supernatural abilities, and he was horrified to find that he could not even access his telepathy. At least he could still since the presence of his brothers-in-arms...they were all alive and well, even if not fully conscious themselves. He could sense them, but he could not interact with them. Several men kept sending him confused and even distrustful stares, and the Commander had to wonder just how out of place he looked in his modern clothes and with his relatively well-kept hygiene against those of the medieval prisoners encircling him.

After what seemed like hours, the train pulled into the decrepit village of Helgen. Its citizens gathered around the road, watching as the imperial officials brought in the next batch of prisoners to be executed. The drivers calling their beasts to a stop, the imperial officers dismounted from the carriages, heading around back and throwing the prisoners to the ground from the back of the vehicle, forcing them to march towards the center of town. Alex and the other prisoners were forced to stand in the center of the square as the townspeople gathered around to observe the events that were going to transpire. One by one, the prisoners were forced up to the chopping block, and Alex could only look away as their supposed crimes were read aloud shortly before they were decapitated by the executioner.

Alex soon found himself at the front of the line, the next one to be killed. However, as the executioner brought the bloody, stained blade of his ax down upon the victim's throat, the Commander stiffened as he sensed the proximity of Alpha Company, they were close. Alex was forced to the front of the square and forced into a kneeling position. As he was read his apparent crimes, his eyes rapidly scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to take advantage of the situation and escape. With his mutations suppressed, to fight his way out could be potentially lethal if his healing had _also _been neutralized, although he stood a much greater chance of fighting his way out than sitting and waiting to lose his head into the bloody, woven basked sitting on the ground beneath him.

While the captain of the guard finished his monologue, Alex prepared to make his move...and that's when he heard an all-too-familiar roar. With a loud hiss and growl, Cheet and Keisha raced into town, followed by the others of Alpha Company with Spyro at it's helm.

"Spread out and find him!" the purple dragon ordered, "Don't let _any _of these assholes stand in the way!"

Grinning slyly, Alex took advantage of the distraction by leaping into the executioner standing beside him, knocking the big man to the ground and dropping the axman's weapon. The guards were instantly on alert, their attention back towards the Commander. He rolled onto his back and used his bound hands to lift himself back into a sitting position before scurrying into cover inside of a doorway, just as a barrage of airs whistled through the air around him.

"OVER HERE!" Alex roared as loud as he could, "Hope one of you bastards can hear me! I've been silenced!"

"Alex?" he heard Spyro's voice began from somewhere nearby, and the Commander risked leaving cover to alert his second-in-command to his presence.

Upon leaving the watchtower back into the open square, Alex watched as Piermont and Cherub flamed the archers on the walls, the ground-based members of Alpha Company distracting the soldiers. "Spyro!" Alex exclaimed, stumbling over to the purple dragon, "Set me free!"

While they dove into cover, Spyro set apart on cutting the ropes tying Alex's hands together. The chains shackled to his ankles, however, could not be cut through conventional means, they were solid steel. They would either need a key to unlock them or something with enough force to shatter the surprisingly well-forged restraint.

"Damn it!" the dragon growled, "We need to find a way to get those chains off of you."

Picking up a deceased guard's sword, Alex replied, "Look for the captain of the guard, we should be able to convince him to remove them."

"Yeah? And how are you gonna do that when you're their prisoner?"

Alex chuckled, "Hell if I know, Jedi Mind Tricks? C'mon man, shouldn't be too hard to scare the shit out of 'em."

"Melt them down? You're a pyromancer!"

"'Cept my wings have been clipped..." then Alex paused, "Wait a sec..._you're _a dragon! Melt these freaking things!"

Spyro managed to destroy the chain, enabling Alex full maneuverability once more. He assumed that he could actually get the cuffs off of him once they escaped from the imperial forces. As they fought through the chaos towards the northern gates of the city, Alex asked his wing-second, "Where the hell are we? Do you know?"

"Skyrim," Spyro replied, "The northernmost province of Tamriel...we're also right smack dab in the middle of the coup going on, so we'll need to tread carefully here."

"Can you guys tell Elliot to get some evac out here for us? Cause I'm powerless."

"You're not the only one," Spyro sighed, "After they restrained us at the crash site, they dosed up on...something. We have no powers, we can't heal, we can't communicate, we can't do _anything _through our mutations."

"So you bastards are risking your lives taking on the guard?"

"Precisely..." Spyro replied, then he grinned, "But hey, all in a day's work, amirite? Besides, these morons are so damn scared that their aim is worse than the Stormtroopers. Do we have any guns?"

"Negative."

"Great...so what do we do?"

"Wait around until this poison wears off...hopefully...then we can call evac in."

"Can never be _easy _can't it?"

"What's life without a few challenges every once in awhile, huh?"

"How did you find me?"

"We can sense each other, but that's about all that our suppressed magic powers can do," Spyro sighed, "We felt you were here, so we attacked it, hoping to God we were right."

"What's the plan?"

"Secure the city, then rendezvous on the other side of town."

"Everyone accounted for?"

"Roger...I guess after we were captured, they figured you could be dealt the same treatment as the other prisoners of war. Rest of us they locked up in a bunch of cages, probably to send us to a zoo or something...wasn't too hard to break out."

"Don't think there are zoos in the Gothics."

"You know what I mean! I guess it would be more like a circus or trading caravan or...hell I don't know, and it's not important."

As the sun reached high noon, the splintered Alpha Company managed to take the town from the imperial soldiers stationed there, reuniting at the north gates. Instantly, upon seeing him, Cynder ran up to the Commander, leaping into his arms and covering his head and face with kisses. The she-dragon, now embarrassed, hopping back down again, Alex turned to face the rest of his companions, relieved they were all still in one piece. Only Keisha had sustained injury during the fight, and it was little more than a shallow cut across her flank, "Thanks for that..." Alex replied, "Would have hated to burn the whole damn place down alone in the great escape."

"No problem..." Cherub replied, "Although now we have a _new _problem to worry about..."

"Which is?" Alex queried, Crash handing him his AK47 and a satchel of clips.

"The _hell _do we do now? We're cut off from the rest of the world until we get our powers back..._if _we get our powers back that is..."

"C'mon," Piermont chuckled, "Even the _Maxia_ are so-far-incapable of demutating one of us...I doubt these stone age neanderthals _are _capable. Just gotta play the waiting game...they'll come back eventually."

"Fair enough..." Cynder sighed, "Though what are we going to do until they come back? We can't very well _stay _here. As long as we're without our abilities, we're _very _vulnerable. Once word comes back to their chain of command that an entire village was razed to the ground by a group of furry animals, _especially _if we're revealed to be involved, given our reputation in this entire cluster, I'm sure these guys will send all they got at us. Powerless, we won't stand a chance."

"You sure about that?" Piermont smiled grimly.

"Almost positive. The Gothics know about us, and given how big Tamriel is, and how much influence it holds in this entire area, I'm sure they know what to expect out of us. They know they cannot harm us through conventional means, so they'll make up for that by mass-attacking us. Don't call me out on bullshit either, else you are telling me that of all the traders that have passed through, _none _have uttered even a little squeak about who we are."

"So what's the plan then?" Alex asked.

Cynder shrugged, "I don't know. However, I suggest we don't stay in one place for long. News gets around rather slowly in these territories...but it _will _get around. While the other cities and settlements are in the dark about what happened here, let's get a move on and try to get some answers. If we can find some friends to room with for awhile until we get our abilities back, we'll be in the clear."

"Let's move then..." Alex began, turning to face the road snaking far to the north, leading out into the wilderness of the snowy province. "Shit..." he sighed, "Where do we start?"

Piermont chuckled, "Follow the yellow brick road, _hombre_. Just stay outta sight of patrols and whatnot."

As night fell upon the world, the _aurora borealis _lighting up the sky, they reached a tiny village sitting along the banks of a river. As they passed through the arching gate into the walled village beyond, they spied the town's residents finishing up various chores. Once the sun had fully vanished beneath the horizon, the city soon emptied, and Alpha Company found themselves trotting along on empty streets, save for an occasional guard patrolling the area, caring less about their presence.

"Where the hell do we go?" Alex asked, "We keep going or..."

"Sure we can find an inn somewhere nearby..." Piermont replied, "Why don't we try looking around."

"I don't have any cash, do _you_?"

"Some gold coins that I looted off the bodies of those guys we killed, but other than that, not much."

With Alpha Company hiding outside, Alex entered the inn alone, immediately alarmed to find that humans mingled with anthropomorphic animals over mugs of mead and ale. After standing place for several moments, thinking over what to do, he eventually exited the inn once more, retrieving his unit. Upon the unit entering the structure, they were surprised to find that no one even batted an eye towards their direction, even those who were suspicious of the new arrivals merely spared a few seconds glance towards Alpha Company before returning their attentions to friends and meals.

Shrugging it off, Alex took a seat at the counter while Alpha Company itself gathered around the fire in the hearth, warming themselves against the bitterly cold night outside.

"What can I get you?" the bartender replied in a thick, English accent, washing out a mug with a dishcloth.

"What do you have to eat?" the Commander replied, and he was presented with a menu written upon a piece of parchment.

While he glanced over the menu, the bartender asked, "You're not from around here, are you?"

Alex shook his head, "Nope, we...eh...we come from Rune."

"Rune, eh?" the man chuckled, "That's surprising. Given your scars, Rune doesn't seem to be a violent type of nation."

Alex shrugged, "Shit happens."

"What brings you to Riverwood, eh?"

Alex shrugged again, "Just passing through, we'll be leaving first thing tomorrow."

"Ah, you heading to Whiterun?"

"Whiterun?" the Commander asked, intrigued.

"Yes, a city about four kilometers north of here, following the river. We've heard that there's a major battle occurring over there, and lately we've had reinforcements from _both _sides passing through."

"Both sides?"

"Yes, the damned Imperials and the Stormcloak Rebellion. The Imperials want to continue enslaving us, where the Stormcloaks seek to liberate us from their cursed influence." 

Alex smirked, reminded of the Second Civil War ransacking his _own _native homeland, "We'll probably head over there then. Command told us that our help might be needed, they just didn't specify what."

"Rune is getting involved?" the bartender asked, alarmed, "Since when do they care about our struggles?"

"Well, Rune has since fallen under new management...of sorts."

"You're Terminators, aren't you?"

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"You aren't dressed like one of us, you don't dress in those women's robes that Rune does, and you don't speak like us."

Alex shrugged, "You caught me."

"Why are Terminators getting involved, eh? Don't they have their _own _war they're fighting?"

"We like to keep our allies safe."

The bartender smirked, "Good luck with that. I just hope you and the rest of your army are on the right side."

"Depends on what the 'right' side is," Alex responded, but the man said nothing, only walked away. With a grunt and a stretch, he stood up, walking over to where Spyro and Cynder lay sprawled out near the fire. He settled himself between the two, saying, "Well, I got some news."

"What is it?" the she-dragon asked, not moving from he relaxed position.

"Something's going on at the city of Whiterun, a few miles north of here apparently. Some kinda battle, or something other."

"Did you forget we're vulnerable now?" Cynder asked, aghast, straightening to a sitting position, "I mean...we can die fairly easy right now...unless our powers magically come back overnight."

"Well, I figured that we wouldn't _actively _fight in whatever is going on, but maybe we can find some more leads about where to go."

"We're trying to _avoid _combat, not walk into it," Spyro scowled.

Alex chuckled, "Think about it...the Imperials captured us, right?"

"Yeah..."

"So...what if we were to side with the Stormcloaks, the rebellion _opposing _the Imperials? I'm sure they have a stronghold we can camp out in until Elliot can get down here."

"But getting involved in a war that's not ours?" Cynder protested, "Alex...we have _enough _problems dealing with this war with the _Maxia_...do you _really _want to get involved in yet _another _war, one that we have absolutely _no _purpose in?"

"We need friends..." Alex replied, "We can't have friends when a nation is ripped apart by two _very _different factions. To strengthen ourselves down here, we need to strengthen this place. Tamriel's influence _dominates _this _entire _sector. If we can settle the trouble here and restore peace and order within the Gothics...and if we can align ourselves with Tamriel...we will have a _very _powerful asset in this region. Rune and Parmecia help, yeah, but they're the two smallest and least respected nations in the Gothics. If we can get Tamriel to align themselves with us..."

"Okay..." Cynder began, "I see where you're going with this, Alex...but at the same time, do we _really _need to get involved? What if we choose the wrong side? Both sides have their friends and enemies down here...so we win one's favor and we piss off the other. It's way too risky. The best option is just to sit out until the conflict burns itself out, then ally ourselves with whoever is the victor."

"I think we will win more support and approval if we help the 'right', popular side win."

"Yeah? So which is the 'right' and 'popular' side?"

Alex chuckled, "Given that the Stormcloaks seem to carry the pride of the province on their backs, Skyrim identifies the Stormcloaks as displaying the strength, power, and pride of 'their' people. The Imperials are heavily disliked not just in Skyrim, but several other provinces in Tamriel. Of course, the majority of these relatively large provinces are the more barbaric of the peoples, but they are the proudest, birthing the warriors that this whole nation prides itself upon. Ultimately, do we side with the bureaucrats and wealthy houses? Or do we side with the warriors and soldiers? That's what the question will be."

"I have _no _idea what you just said..." Spyro replied, cocking his head at Alex, "You lost me at...well at the beginning of that little rant."

"I think what he's saying is that the Stormcloaks are trying to restore the pride and independence that Tamriel has always been known and loved for by overthrowing the corrupt politicians that are driving this place into the ground with their sleazy business and political dealings," Cynder responded.

"Cynder's right," Alex replied.

"How do we know for sure that what you're thinking is the actual state of what's going on though? I mean...we don't know jack about the war or the forces engaged in it," Spyro asked.

Alex shrugged, "I've heard enough from Rune and Parmecia that they're growing concerned over the Empire's reach for power. Tamriel has always influenced the political, religious, and economical dealings of the Gothics in its entirety. However, since the new Emperor rose to power, they've been forcing their nose into every other Gothic nation's personal dealings...they're trying to control or annex the entire area. So far, Gaia is the only nation that's strong enough to openly oppose and resist the Tamrielian Empire's militaristic bullying, since they're armed with gunpowder, steam, and machine up against Tamriel's sword, shield, and bow. _All _of the Gothics, not just Tamriel, will be happier with the empire overthrown."

"We don't know that, though. Even if a couple of provinces dislike the empire, how do we know that the entire nation will be friendly enough if we help in the coup?" Cynder asked.

"I just know, all right? It'll work."

Cynder sighed, "I'm just...you see what I'm getting at Alex? I mean, do you _really _want to involve yourself in _another _war when we're struggling through the one we're dealing with already!? Plus, for all we know, if we align ourselves with the Stormcloaks, the _Maxia _will align themselves with the Empire. If the _Maxia _give the Empire the shit that they have, we're fucked. With our backs against the wall in _TWO _wars, we'll be even _more_ screwed than how we are right now. There's a slim chance that our defeat in the Second Civil War will not necessarily obliterate us, but merely send us back to the days between independence from the GTC and gaining the US as our ally. If we lose two fronts..." she shook her head, "There's a _very _high chance that we will be blown into extinction or, at least, our rep will be so diminished that we will never be able to become what we used to be," calming herself with a few deep breaths, Cynder continued, this time in a much softer tone, "Listen, Alex...I'm with you in whichever path you choose...but just...think of all outcomes before you jump headfirst into something you're not involved in, especially if you go in blind. Remember what Plastro did...don't make the same mistake."

Alex smiled grimly, "Cyn...the Empire pulled us into this when they arrested and tried to execute me..." and with this, he picked himself up, walking away.

Early the next morning, Alex awoke the others in his unit and, paying the man at the front counter, departed from Riverwood, stepping out of the warm inn and into the cold, still, morning air. The settlement was empty, not a soul in sight, a light mist hanged low over the world. "If we follow the river," Alex began, "Heading North, we should eventually run into Whiterun."

"What's so important about this Whiterun place?" Piermont asked sleepily.

"Our ticket so safety," Alex responded, "Or perhaps the opportunity of a lifetime."

"Wait a minute..." and the dragon was instantly alert, "You're not planning on actually joining these guys, are you?"

Alex smirked, and Cynder only sighed, "He thinks it could be to our advantage."

"Are you fucking insane!?"

"I was thinking the same thing," the she-dragon shook her head.

"Think about it, Pierre," Alex began, "If we help the Stormcloaks overthrow the empire, we may be able to win an alliance in Tamriel. Imagine if we took Tamriel, the largest presence in the Gothics."

"Yeah? 'Cept the Gothics ain't of any use to us in the war, mate. We're fighting the _Maxia_, remember? A modern-day military, composed of the greatest fighting force on the planet, and as high-tech as you can get. A buncha settlements trapped in the middle ages ain't gonna help us at all."

"You don't know that," Alex replied.

"It's common fuckin' sense!"

"Pierre," Cynder interrupted, "You might as well let him do his own little thing."

"_AND GET US ALL KILLED IN THE PROCESS!?_"

Cynder shrugged.

"You forgot we're not mutated anymore, right? Right?"

"How could I forget?" Alex replied.

"SO WHY ARE WE GOING INTO THE FIRE!" 

Alex smirked arrogantly towards his beast, "What's wrong? I thought you said that these guys are no match for a modern-day military?"

"_WE ARE NOT MUTATED!_"

"Why are you yelling?"

"Because! We are _VULNERABLE_, man! If we don't watch our asses, a stray arrow or a crazed swordsman _WILL _kill us!"

Alex shrugged, "You only live once."

"That's the _STUPIDEST _thing I've ever heard you say!"

"Wow, really enjoying the emphasis aren't you?"

"Fuck off! We can't do this, man! We'll die here!"

"Pierre...how many battles have we participated in where we didn't even get scratched? Plus, how many people have survived unscathed through millenia of warfare? Play it carefully, and we'll do fine."

"Yeah? 'Cept the fact that Cherub and I are big as a fucking barn door, making us easy target practice, and as soon as a kid and a bunch of animals, _including _several dragons, arrive on scene, we're gonna have every guy targeting _us_."

"Think of the opportunities..."

"_What _opportunities?"

"A chance to forge more alliances and perhaps give us more help against the _Maxia_."

Piermont shook his head, "Not worth it, man."

"Yeah? Well that's why I'm the commander and you're not."

"Oh fuck you."

"You don't even hold official rank here."

"Fair enough, then ask your goddamn _second-in-command_ on what we should do. Maybe Spearow can hammer it through your thick friggin' skull!"

"I'm staying out of this," Spyro sighed.

"Bullshit you are, Spearow. What we gonna do? Run into the fire or play it safe, pick the _smart _choice?"

All eyes were immediately on the purple dragon, who looked around in shock, "C'mon guys..."

"What do you think?" Alex asked.

"I...I don't know...I guess it's worth a shot...?"

"Oh you idiot..." Piermont scowled.

"Excellent," Alex replied, nodding up the road, "Let's go."

By the time they reached the hillside overlooking the valley within which the city of Whiterun lay, the morning fog that enveloped the world was just beginning to burn off with the day. The temperature was easily in the early to mid fifties, melting the snow and ice on the ground into mud. Down by the large, walled city, they could see flames rising throughout its interior, and the distance sounds of battle filled the morning air.

"I cannot believe we're _actually _doing this..." Piermont growled, his emerald green scales blending in with the encompassing taiga.

"So..." Cynder began, "Anyone know which guys are the good guys?"

"Ask our lord and savior Alex Vaughn," Piermont spat, a low growl in his tone.

"Whoever doesn't shoot at or banzai us."

"Yeah...and what if they _all _do?"

Alex shrugged, "Cut 'em all down until someone's willing to strike up a conversation."

"You sure that the lack of the mutation serum hasn't diluted your intelligence?" Cherub responded bitterly, eliciting a mischievous grin from her mate.

"Stop complaining guys," Alex replied, checking the clip of his weapon, "We'll do fine."

"Famous last words."

"Shut up, Pierre."

Alex led the charge down the hill and towards the distant city. Some of the battle between the opposing forces occurred out in the surrounding countryside, but it seemed that most of the action was within the city proper. Against their superior weapons, even with limited ammunition, neither Imperial or Stormcloak forces posed a serious threat, and arrows were alarmingly easy to dodge compared to bullets. Even though they had the technological advantage, they were outnumbered, fighting in unfamiliar territory, and it wouldn't be long before they completely ran dry of ammunition. As the grounded members, including Alex, neared the city, the Commander's Wing concentrated their attacks on the archers upon the walls. As predicted, both sides turned their attentions to the third party, and Alex briefly wondered if perhaps his companions' earlier protests may have been the better idea. There seemed to be no end to the opposing forces, even when the last clip in his possession was dropped to the muddy battlefield, fully spent.

"Did you at least bring a sword?" Crash asked in irritation, to which Alex only withdrew his combat knife, nodding towards it, "No...but I got this."

"Is it too late to abandon ship?" Cheet asked, tackling an Imperial soldier to the ground and ripping the man's throat out.

"Note to self," Alex began, "If we survive this and get back home, start practicing with throwing knives."

Simba groaned, "How the hell is that gonna help us?"

The Commander shrugged, "Always been curious to try new weapons."

"Can we concentrate on the situation at hand, please?" Nala asked impatiently, tackling and slashing an attacking Imperial soldier to death.

Dodging a barrage of arrows from the city's walls, Alex led his unit to the city gates, Cheet managing to slip in before the gates slammed shut. After several moments of holding their position against countless soldiers charging towards them, the gates eventually opened back up again, Cheet growling for them to hurry inside. Now inside the city proper, they were greeted by an Imperial phalanx, and after making quick work with these, Alpha Company continued pushing deeper into the burning castle village, making their way to the hold looming ahead upon a hill.

Eventually, they reached the bridge leading into the hold, with Alex leading the charge towards the large, oak doors. Before they could get them open, however, a powerful wind emerged from out of nowhere, slamming into the clustered Alpha Company and sending them tumbling to the ground. With a grunt, they slowly picked themselves up, finding the battle had calmed down around them. "So..." a deep, powerful voice began, causing the Commander to immediately look towards its source. Walking across the bridge towards them, coming from the same direction they had, was a tall, broad-shouldered man, wearing a bear pelt as a cloak around his shoulders. He had long, braided, light brown hair and a beard to match, with fierce brown eyes set into a haggard, dirty, battle-scarred face. In one hand he held a steel broadsword, with a dagger in the other.

The man was flanked by soldiers clad in dark blue tunics and Anglian helmets, all with steel longswords drawn and circular, wooden shields. To his left was another man, with long, shoulder-length, light brown hair, bright blue eyes, and fair skin. This man wore a horned, Viking-like helmet, and wore heavy steel armor, instead of the tunics of his apparent comrades.

"Ah shit..." Alex breathed, then, feigning a grin, "Hi there...so...uh...you guys the Stormcloaks?"

The cloaked man, with a grunt, nodded towards the fallen unit, "Dante, make sure they get back to Windhelm, I will be there once I finish things here."

The heavy-armored man nodded, "Yes, sir."

The leader turned to face his guard, "All of you, arrest them..._all _of them...make sure none of them escape."

The apparent second-in-command, Dante, approached the Commander, and Alex grinned sheepishly once more, "So...things are good, yes?"

In an instant, Alex saw stars as Dante cracked the hilt of his sword against the Commander's head, the boy's consciousness winking out before he even hit the ground.

Alex came to, groaning as he sat up, finding himself laying on a bedroll within the straw-covered floor of a cell. Freezing, winter air blew through cracks in the otherwise sturdy stone walls of the prison, and he, blinking at the dimly lit dungeon, looked around. He was alone in the cell, and seemed to be in a largely unoccupied wing of the dungeon. There were at least a dozen cells in this part of the prison, and only one other cell contained an inmate, an old, scraggly-looking fellow who said nothing, only leaned against the wall, looking towards the floor.

"Yo..." Alex began, trying to get the other prisoner's attention, "Where am I?"

Silence.

"Hey!" Alex called, "I'm talking to you, guy!"

Still no response.

"He's deaf..." a voice began, and Alex turned to face the archway leading into his block. Dante, in full armor sans helmet, stood within, sword sheathed at his side, arms crossed against his chest. "You are in the dungeons of Windhelm, in eastern Skyrim."

Alex rubbed the back of his head, wincing as he brushed the large welt, "Thanks for cracking my fuckin' skull, really appreciate that."

Dante smirked, "I could do it again if you so desired..." and he entered the block, leaning against the door of the empty cell directly across from the Commander, "You aren't Imperial or Stormcloak...so who are you? Your clothes...I haven't quite seen anything like it before...you're not from around here, are you?"

Alex observed his dirty, wrinkled battle dress uniform, reminiscent of the black _Gestapo _uniforms of Nazi Germany, only in place of the usual Nazi armband, the one he wore depicted the Terminator Eagle centered on a solid red background. "Well...no, not really."

"Who are you, what side are you on then, and most importantly, what were you doing in Whiterun," he then revealed Alex's empty AK47, which had been sitting on a barrel at the far end of the room, "This...weapon...is it some kind of crossbow?"

Alex frowned, "I hope to Christ you didn't _actually_ try to fire bolts from that thing...as for your questions...well..." he smiled grimly, "We're Terminators, we were heading back to the United States from Rune when we were shot down over...Cyrodiil I think it's called?"

"Terminators? United States?"

Alex sighed, "We're a military...or a militia rather...the United States is a country, located halfway across the world."

"We?"

"Yeah, all those animals you guys knocked around with your aerokinesis? Yeah, those were my guys...fellow Terminators."

"Aerokinesis?"

"The airbending bullshit you pulled back there."

"I ask again...what were you doing in Whiterun?"

"What? You guys can't just say 'hi' like _normal _people?"

Silence from a glaring Dante.

Alex sighed, "Listen, guy...we weren't _trying _to get involved in your little...civil war thing, all right? We got our _own _problems in the U.S, fighting a friggin' war right now. Unfortunately, these imperial motherfuckers shot our flying machine out of the sky above Cyrodiil, brought us up here to have us executed, and we're just trying to find a way back home...and I kinda want to show these imperial sons of bitches that they chose to fuck around with the wrong army."

Dante frowned, straightening himself and once more examining Alex's weapon, "Jarl Ulfric will be back in Windhelm soon...I'll have him decide what to do with you."

"Do me a favor, please, for the love of God, don't dick around with that...shit's expensive, man."

"What _is _this?"

"It's an AK47...a gun...a weapon from the place we come from, seriously, please don't mess with it."

Dante grunted, replacing the weapon on the barrel, heading towards the archway leading out.

"Oh, and hey, Dante."

The man stiffened at his name, rotating to face Alex, "What is it?"

"Are my friends all right?"

He smirked, "They're fine...for now."

"Take care of 'em...all right? I don't care what the hell you do to me, but leave them out of this. None of us mean any harm to you guys. We're on the same team."

"Explain that to Jarl Ulfric, especially considering you cut down dozens of his men."

"Everybody was trying to put us down...we were just trying to survive, surely you know that."

"You'll have to speak to Jarl Ulfric," and with this, he finally left.

Alex sighed, placing his forehead against the hand-crafted, steel bars of his cell, "God damn it..."

"Get up!"

Alex was awaken by a painful poke from the butt of a spear. His eyes shooting open, he spied two of what he assumed to be the city guards standing in the open cell doorway. With a groan, he picked himself up before being forcefully thrown against the back wall of the cell, his arms forced behind his back and tied together with rope. Once bound, he was shoved out of the cell, led through the dungeon and into the narrow, claustrophobic halls of the keep. After several minutes, he was shoved through an open arch and into a wide throne room. The man in the bear cloak that he had seen in Whiterun stood before the large, stone throne, conversing in hushed whispers with Dante.

"Here he is, sir," one of Alex's escorts replied bitterly, forcing the Commander down into a kneeling position before the Jarl.

Releasing Dante, Alex watched as the younger man exited the keep before Ulfric climbed up onto the throne, reclining into it and releasing the guards to either side of the captive Commander. Silenced hanged in the air for several minutes before Ulfric finally began, "So...I hope you have good reason for attacking my men in Whiterun."

Alex frowned, "I'm sorry about that...we were just trying to survive, that's all. We had both your men _and _the imperial forces attacking us at once...what were we supposed to do?"

"Dante has confirmed that you are not from around here. May I ask where you hail from then?"

"The United States of America...another country across the world. We were returning there from Rune when we were shot down over Cyrodiil. They captured me, brought me to this small settlement south of Whiterun and Riverwood, I think they called it Helgen? It was where they intended to have me executed. All we desire is revenge against them, and then to find a way to return home."

"So, you want to side with the Stormcloak Rebellion against those Imperial bastards then?"

Alex nodded, "Yes, sir."

"I watched you fight in Whiterun, your skills with a sword were fairly impressive."

"I was trained by General Elliott of Rune, sir."

Ulfric seemed genuinely surprised by this, "You are an apprentice of the famous swordsman himself?"

Alex nodded, "Aye."

"I see..." he then fell silent, seemingly lost in thought for several moments, "Perhaps we can come to an agreement after all."

"There is only one thing I ask in return, Your Highness."

"And that is...?"

"Once you overthrow the Empire, I ask if my militia, the Terminators, can forge an alliance with Tamriel. It will increase our presence within the Gothic Cluster, at the same time, we can supply troops and weapons that you can use to defend yourselves. We possess state-of-the-art technology, we can make Tamriel a superpower that can compete with the rest of the world..." and he grinned widely, "It will put you and your country ages above Gaia."

"A tempting offer indeed..."

Suddenly, a guard charged into the keep, out of breath, "Jarl Ulfric, we are under attack!"

"What?" and Ulfric stood abruptly from his throne, withdrawing his sword, "By who?"

"Dragons, sir!"

The Jarl turned to face Alex, "Time to prove your fealty...what's your name?"

"Name's Alex..." and the Commander nodded firmly, "And that sounds fair enough."

"Cut him loose, then get the townsfolk to safety."

"Yes, sir."

His binds soon cut, Alex returned to the dungeon, retrieving his weapons before heading back into the throne room, charging through the double oak doors out into the dilapidated city outside. Snow fell faintly from the eerily dreary and colorless world, and the Commander heard an all-too-familiar bellow from the skies above.

"Piermont!" he exclaimed, charging ahead of the guards, navigating through the ancient, stone city, searching for an open expanse he could use to flag the great beast down. With several powerful flaps, Alex looked to the skies to spy Piermont's emerald mass circling the city, adding an alarming touch of color to the otherwise gray world. He landed in the heart of the market district, immediately finding himself surrounding by attacking guardsmen. "Wait!" Alex shouted, "Wait! Stop!"

"Alex!" Piermont exclaimed, eyes widening and heading snapping up to face the Commander. Effortlessly throwing aside his assailant, the Martaanean Forest Dragon raced towards Alex, nearly knocking him to the ground and nuzzling him affectionately with his muzzle, "Thank Christ you're all right!"

"Alex!" a feminine voice called, and Alex turned to find Spyro and Cynder, both landing nearby, run up to him. Cynder tackled him to the ground, purring powerfully and nuzzling him, kissing him forcefully on the mouth. Spyro stood awkwardly to the side, observing her displays of affection. The guards surrounding them, Alex scrambled to his feet, calling them off. Although they stopped attacking, they remained encircling the party, weapons drawn, and within a few minutes, Alex saw Ulfric stomping through the guards towards the boy.

"You know these damned creatures?"

Alex nodded, "Part of my squad...they mean no harm."

"Yeah," Piermont replied with a snarl, "Overheard some of these fucking guys talking about the capture of a 'foreigner' and this 'group of talking animals'."

Ulfric cast Alex a distrustful glare, to which the Commander responded, "Honest to God, they're on our side."

"Where are the others?" Spyro asked, looking around.

"Jarl Ulfric," Alex began, "Where are the animals that were with me?"

"Locked away in the dungeons."

"They're with me, too."

After several moments of silence, Ulfric nodded towards one of the guards, "See that they are released."

"But, sir..."

"Do it now!" and the man hurried off. Ulfric turned to face Alex, now sitting on the stony ground with Cynder curled in his lap, allowing him to gently pet her, "Is there anything else that I should know?"

"No, sir," Alex replied, these dragons and the animals that were with me are all I have here with me.

"Very well, then," Ulfric turned to Dante, "Show them their quarters. Give them Hjerim."

The man nodded, "Of course, Jarl Ulfric," and they watched as he stormed off once again, most likely returning to the palace. Dante nodded towards them, "Follow me."

As they were led across the narrow, sunken cobble streets of the walled, rundown, and claustrophobic city, they were soon joined by several guards leading the remnant of Alpha Company. Now reunited, Alpha continued on, following Dante as the guards headed back to the castle. Eventually, they reached a dead end, finding themselves standing near a walled property. Beyond the crooked, rusty gates lay a weedy yard, standing between the streets and a large, two story house tucked away in a corner of the city. Unlocking the gate and shoving aside them with an earsplitting squeak, Dante handed the battered key to Alex waving towards this property, "As long as you are here, this is your home."

"When will we continue the fight against the Imperials?" Alex replied with a frown.

Dante chuckled, "Thirsty for blood, eh? Admirable, you'll fit in just fine with us. The blood of the Nords beats within your veins, even if you aren't one of us yourselves. Either myself or another representative of Jarl Ulfric's guard will come get you if something comes up. For now, get comfortable, take a walk, get used to this place. If you need anything, don't hesitate to pay us a visit," and he wandered off, heading back to the palace.

They watched him go before Alex finally stepped up to the front, doubled doors, unlocking them and pushing the heavy, iron-reinforced, oak doors open, stepping into the room beyond. It was wide open, with worn, scratched wood floors, thick stone walls to fend off the cold, and empty hearths dotting the room. Directly across from them was a staircase leading up to the second floor, and the house, although furnished, was covered in a thick layer of dust, obviously untouched for a long time. Four of the five bedrooms were located on the second floor, with the fifth room located on the opposite side of the first floor from the door, likely the servants' quarters. With a sigh and stretching, Cynder said, "Guess we can start cleaning..."

Cheet shook the snow from his fur, Keisha pausing beside him, "It's friggin' cold in here..." the cheetah protested, "We're built for the Savannah, not this..." he looked around, "Winter wonderland."

"I'll start a fire," Cherub chuckled, heading over to one of the fireplaces, and Piermont wandered off to another. The rest of Alpha Company dispersed through the building, making themselves at home, leaving Alex standing in place at the door.

"You gonna get comfortable or...?" Simba asked the Commander.

Alex shook his head, "Nah...gonna explore, maybe stock up on supplies...maybe some armor or weapons."

"We're broke, dude..." Piermont scowled.

Alex shrugged, "Maybe I can talk Ulfric into giving us some freebies...or maybe a discount at the least."

Suddenly, from the back room, Nala called out, "Holy shit! They have running water!"

"What?" everyone within hearing range exclaimed in unison, turning to face the back room. The lioness appeared in the doorway of the room, chuckling, "This place may be stuck in the middle ages...but they have actual running water."

"How the hell..." Piermont began, "This city looks like it's been here for thousands of years, how the hell did they get _plumbing _installed!?"

"They might be tapped into the sewers...wouldn't doubt this place has a maze of those under the permafrost," Spyro replied, "I wouldn't count on hot water though."

"Ah crap...nevermind..." Simba sighed, appearing beside his mate, "They have sinks with running water. I saw an outhouse outside, there's the toilet, and we'll have to boil water if we want to shower or bath."

"Already getting started," Keisha responded, sitting before a fire pit with a massive kettle resting upon it, "I feel disgusting..."

"I thought cats were afraid of water?" Piermont chuckled.

"Shut up, Pierre," Cheet replied.

Alex shook his head with a sigh, calling, "I'll be back," before disappearing outside, back into the chilly city. The skies above began to darken, nightfall was fast approaching, if he was going to explore, he had better do so soon.

The city, although labyrinthine and extremely narrow, was surprisingly large and winding, easy to get lost in. The locals, despite living in very poor conditions, seemed to be happy, firmly believing that things would get better once Ulfric overthrew the empire and liberate Skyrim, willing to tolerate the poverty with the hopes of living in the lap of luxury. The city itself was largely empty, there weren't very many people out, and the Commander figured that most of them were likely inside for the night. Eventually, he found himself on the docks sitting upon the Atlantic, just outside the city walls, overlooking a seemingly endless tundra. He watched several anthropomorphic lizards, obviously slaves, working hard on various things around the dock, ignoring the barbed commands of what the boy assumed were their overseers. His eyes turned to the far end of the dock, where one of the lizardlike creatures was currently being physically abused and sexually harassed by a guard.

"Hey!" the Commander exclaimed, running up to them, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Stay out of this, kid," the guard responded, "Get back inside! It's past curfew."

"Leave them alone!"

"This is none of your..." but the guard was abruptly silenced by a surprisingly powerful punch across the face by the teen, sending the man to the ground. The guard, in shock, stared with a homicidal glare towards the angry Commander, wearing a grim smirk. Wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, the guard picked himself up, withdrawing a sword, and with a howl, charged towards the bull, shouting, "You will pay for that!"

Alex sidestepped out of the way of the guard, kicking him in the back and knocking him into the ocean. Another guard, appearing down the stairway leading to the gate between the docks and the city, suddenly withdrew his weapon, running towards Alex. Lowering his head, the Commander charged towards the approaching guard, tackling him to the ground and punching him relentlessly. While Alex continued beating the bloody and nearly unconscious guard, the one he had knocked into the ocean appeared behind him, grabbing him by the collar of his jacket and throwing him back, climbing onto him and restraining him, "You are under arrest!"

"Leave him be, Asger..." the lizard-like creature the guard had harassed spoke up in a female voice, "He has done nothing wrong."

"You shut up, stupid lizard!"

"Hjalmar! Help me!" the harassing guard, Asger, exclaimed in a furious tone. The guard that Alex had beat up appeared beside his companion, helping Asger lift Alex from the ground and drag him back to the city. The Commander was led back to the palace and was thrown to the ground at Ulfric's feet once again, interrupting the conversation between the Jarl and Dante.

"You have been free here for little more than two hours, and already you have been arrested by the city guard?" Dante asked with a frown.

"He attacked us at the docks," Asger replied.

Alex, wearing an arrogant grin, replied, "He was harassing one of those lizardmen...sorry, but I have little tolerance for disrespectful pieces of shit...call it one of my little quirks."

"Those damned Argonians are slaves!" Hjalmar howled, his voice slurred by the swelling of his broken jaw, "We can treat them however we like!"

"You repulsive motherfuckers!" Alex howled, and he was punched in the cheek, sent to the ground from his kneeling position.

"That's enough!" Ulfric roared, causing the guards to stiffen, "Hjalmar, go see the healer, Asger...why are you wet?"

"This little bastard threw me into the sea."

Even Ulfric couldn't hold back a smile, and Dante, standing at the reclining Jarl's side, looked towards the ground, obviously hiding his own. Finally, Ulfric spoke, "Asger, change your clothes, then return to your post."

Once the two guards had left, Alex, still laying on the ground, righted himself into a sitting position, testing the maneuverability of his jaw to ensure it wasn't broken, spitting out a glob of blood and wiping the corner of his mouth. "They _are _slaves, Alex," Ulfric began.

Alex frowned, "What can I do to convince you to release them then, huh?"

"Put forth enough gold to pay for them," Dante responded, popping his neck muscles, "And capture us replacements."

His frown morphing into a snarl, Alex responded, "You know, with all the shit you're doing with the Imperials, why don't you just capture _them _and make them slaves? Those lizards..."

"They're called Argonians..." Dante interrupted.

"Fine, those _Argonians_ don't look like they're cared for. Do they _really _deserve the treatment you're putting them through?"

Silence from the duo.

With a sigh, Alex asked, "All right, fine, I'll play along. How much will it cost to buy them from you?"

"One thousand septims per head, for a total of five thousand if you want all five," Ulfric replied.

"Son of a..." Alex sighed, looking away, "Any ideas where I can get the money?"

"You want them? _You _figure out how to pay for them," Dante replied.

"Anyway," Ulfric spoke, "We'll let you go, just this once. I advise you don't try to pick fights with my guards. Next time, I will not hesitate to lock you back in that cell."

Alex picked himself up, standing in silence for several minutes before finally saying, "You pay your men, right? How?"

"Right now, the only payment they receive is pride from defending their homeland. They aren't mercenaries."

Alex scowled, "Any favors I can do then, huh? I don't _have _five thousand...whatever you called it, and I can't _get _that much."

"Why are you interested in those stupid lizards anyway?" Dante asked.

"Because I have a soft spot for liberating people who are being enslaved."

"They aren't people, they are animals, barbarians."

"Yeah? Well they're people to me...besides," he chuckled, "I have a soft spot for scaly critters anyway, you know that black she-dragon I've got with me?"

"Is she you're wife?" Dante taunted.

Alex chuckled, "Well, I prefer the term 'mate', but sure, we'll go with that."

"That is disgusting..." Ulfric replied.

"What? Cynder gives some damn fine sex."

"You disgust me."

Alex frowned, "Regardless, just you wait and see, I'll find a way to get them from you."

"Well, once you produce the septims, they'll be all yours to do as you please."

"Oh don't you worry, I _will_," and with this, Alex left the palace, heading back home.

On his way back to the house, he crossed the market district, finding the lizard creature, Argonian, that the guard, Asger, had bullied earlier, loitering around a jewelry stall. "Hey...are you okay?"

The creature stiffened, turning to face the Commander, walking over to her, "Oh...you're the one who injured those two fools?"

"Yeah...how you doing? Everything okay?"

"Everything is perfectly fine," she replied, observing a shining, silver amulet with a large sapphire embedded within it.

"What's your name?" she turned to face him again, "I am called Shahvee, what are you called?"

"Name's Alex..."

"Nice to meet you," and she returned her attention to the amulet. The woman at the stall glanced at the creature with a snarl of disgust, "Listen lizard, if you want that, you better have the septims."

"Fair enough," and the creature turned, heading over to the nearby meat stall.

Alex's eyes moved between Shahvee and the shopkeeper before he finally approached the stall, observing the amulet, "How much is this?"

"Two hundred septims," the woman replied.

Alex reached into his jacket pocket, removing the leather pouch he had stolen from one of the guards slain during the attack on Helgen. Opening it, he dumped the contents of the pouch onto the stall, counting out exactly two hundred coins and sliding them over to the woman, picking up the amulet. He replaced the last seven gold coins back into the pouch, jogging over to Shahvee, a sack containing fresh meat hanging from her wrist, heading back across the city, likely back to the docks. "Hey!" he called, "Wait up!"

She stopped in place, turning around to face him again, "I must get back before the gates close for the night."

"You forgot something," he replied, reaching into his pocket and handing her the amulet, "Here."

"What...? I didn't..." she then turned to face him, "Did you buy this?"

He shrugged, "Hey, I'm a nice guy when I want to be."

She smiled, pocketing the necklace before looking up to face him again. She had dark green scales, yellow eyes, only a foot or so taller than the Commander himself, thin, with a ring of small, ivory horns around the top of her head like a crown. She was clad in a dingy, blue dress with well-worn, leather shoes, "You didn't have to do this."

"I felt like it."

"I can't ever repay you for this."

"Don't worry about it, think about it as a gift from a friend."

"You are definitely not like the others here, are you? That's refreshing, thank you for your kindness."

"You know, you seem pretty damn chill for the kinda shit your kind goes through here."

She shrugged, walking back to the gate leading to docks, the Commander with her, "I have learned that it's not worth worrying about. I could be much worse off than I am. Compared to others of my kind, I'm blessed. You must be happy for what you have, not regretful for what you don't."

"Huh..." Alex replied, frowning, "Guess I haven't really thought of it that way..."

They stopped at the gate, Shahvee once more taking out the amulet and stroking it gently, "Thank you for this, really."

"Hey...I'm just sorry that you had to put up through that. I tried talking to Ulfric about it but...he won't listen to me."

"The Nords here don't really look upon us too kindly. Anyone who isn't a Nord is often the subject of abuse and derision, given what they're going through with the Empire, and how they've lost most of their cultural heritage due to the politics of Cyrodiil, I cannot really blame them."

"Well...I suggest you keep that thing hidden..." Alex replied, pointing to the necklace, "Those racist sons of bitches might think you stole it or something."

She smiled, "Oh, no need to worry about that..." she then placed one hand against the gate, "Thanks again, and thank you for walking with me."

"Hope to see you again?"

She smiled, nodding, "Perhaps, good night, Alex."

"Night, Shahvee..." and Alex stood, hands in his pockets as she left the city, closing the gates behind her. With a sigh, Alex looked to the dark skies, watching as snowflakes drifted lazily down from the heavens. He chuckled, "She's kinda cute..." and he, with a wide grin, began the trek back to Hjerim.

Upon entering the market square once again, he caught a glimpse of the shopkeepers packing up shop and returning home. An idea suddenly coming to mind, he trotted over to one corner of the lot, ensuring that no one was looking before diving into hiding behind a group of waist-high vases. He remained there, watching and waiting as the shopkeepers returned to the residential district, one-by-one. Within an hour, the square was empty, and once the guards walked past, he moved out of hiding, sticking close to the shadows and sneaking around to the jeweler's stall. Looking around to ensure that no one was around, he turned to face the stall itself. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a paper clip, and bending it into a shape reminiscent of a skeleton key, he fished out his combat knife, proceeding to pick the lock the drawers. Once more looking around to ensure no one was around, he pocketed his tools once again, carefully sliding open the drawer and digging around. Finding it empty, he moved on to the next drawer until finally finding what he was looking for, a money pouch. He quietly fished it out, opening it and perusing through its contents. He counted out a little under two thousand coins, and pocketing them, he returned the pouch to the drawer, glancing around at the other stalls.

"God..." he sighed, "Forgive me for this..." and he moved on to the next stall. Within two hours, he had pocketed a little over seven thousand septims, stealing a large ruby with an inscription of the jeweler's name from her stall as his final act of thievery. Pocketing this, he quickly fled the area, searching for someone to frame. An idea coming to mind, he made his way back to the docks, slipping outside to find the Argonians having retired for the night. Picking the lock into the guards' quarters here, Alex quietly slipped inside, sticking to the shadows and creeping around the sleeping guards. He found Asger passed out on his bed, surrounded by several empty bottles of ale, mumbling something in his drunken sleep. Alex quietly and carefully approached the man, slipping the gemstone into the chest of his personal belongings beneath his bed. While digging around, Alex stumbled upon a piece of parchment, containing several erotic descriptions addressed to Shahvee, commanding her to do a series of sexual acts to the man, upon it. Pocketing this, Alex quietly slipped back outside, making his way back to the market district, where he proceeded to nonchalantly 'drop' the letter behind the jeweler's stall before finally making his way back to Hjerim, finding Alpha Company already asleep within. He collapsed onto the empty bed of the apparent master bedroom, left specifically for him by the rest of his comrades, digging out his now-full gold pouch and proceeding to count out five thousand septims.

Wearing a grin, he replaced the remainder of the coins into the pouch, tying it up and slipping it back into his pocket before finally getting comfortable, extinguishing the candle and falling asleep.

The next morning, Alex informed the rest of his unit about what he had done, ensuring they followed the story he had crafted for them. Accompanied by the High Command, he walked to the palace entering the hall and walking up to the empty throne, looking around for any sight of Ulfric. Dante soon entered the room from the guards' quarters, sighing as he asked, "What do you want _now_?"

"Sat down with the rest of my brothers last night, we managed to dig out five thousand fucking coins between all of us, where's Ulfric?"

Dante seemed surprised by this, "You really want those creatures?"

"Yeah, I do," Alex replied bitterly, "I have the coins."

Dante sighed, walking over to them, "Ulfric will be down shortly..." he shook his head, "I don't understand what you find so damn appealing about them."

They stood around until Ulfric emerged from the upper floors of the palace, taking his seat at the throne and asking, "What do you want?"

Alex reached into his pocket, pulling out a gold pouch and thrusting it forward, his face expressionless, "Here's your damn money, now give me those Argonians."

"How did you get five thousand septims in one night?" he seemed skeptical.

"Lucky for you," Piermont began, "We had enough between us that we managed to scrounge up enough cash. Now how about you keep up your end of the bargain and give us those damn lizards."

Ulfric shook his head, "I can't believe you're serious..."

"We are," Alex replied with a firm nod, "Now, we have a deal or not?"

Silence fell between them for several moments before Ulfric sighed, "Lucky for you, we have a dozen Imperial prisoners coming to us later today from Whiterun." 

"Yeah? Awesome, so...the slaves' contracts?"

"Keep your septims, purchase some weapons and armor to prepare for battle. We're preparing another assault on an Imperial fortress, planned for tomorrow," Ulfric replied, "I didn't _actually _believe you would want those creatures."

It was Alex's turned to be stunned, "Wait...what?"

Ulfric waved towards Dante, "Go to the docks, tell Asger and Hjalmar that they are to hand over the slaves."

Dante nodded with a sigh, "Yes, sir..." and he pointed towards Alex, "But you are coming with me."

Alex nodded, "Fair enough."

"Let's go."

They arrived at the docks just in time to watch Asger being arrested. As the guards dragged the man off, Alex couldn't help but to contain a grin as Dante led them over to where Hjalmar was patrolling, ensuring the Argonian slaves continued working. "What did Asger do now?" Dante asked.

"He apparently stole from the merchants at the market. He claims not to have done so...but they found proof that he did. He _did _apparently go one one of his drinking binges again last night, so it's really no surprise..." then he asked, "So...if you're not here for Asger...what are you here for?"

Dante nodded towards the Argonians, "These lizards now have a new owner."

"What? Who?"

"Me," Alex replied with a wide grin, and Shahvee was the first to look up from her work.

"But...they're not for sale!"

"Jarl Ulfric's orders," Dante replied, "Besides, you're getting a shipment of Imperial prisoners, put them to work in these damned lizards' places."

Hjalmar scowled, "Do I not have a say in the matter?"

"The orders are straight from Jarl Ulfric," and Dante withdrew his sword, "Are you really going to resist?"

The guard sighed, "Fine..." and he turned to address the slaves, "All of you, get out of my sight."

The slaves all looked around awkwardly at each other, unsure of what to do.

"Are you deaf? Get out of here!"

"Come guys, you all are coming with me," Alex replied.

While Alpha Company walked around town, shopping for supplies and outfitting the Argonians with proper clothes and weapons, Alex stayed back in Hjerim, once more digging around his satchel for any vials of the mutation serum. He normally kept them on hand in case he ran into a situation where he needed it, but the one time he _did_, he had apparently left them back in New Alexandria. With a sigh and a growl, he replaced everything back into the pack when he heard someone come into the house.

He paid it no mind until Shahvee entered his room, her hands crossed at her waist, wearing the amulet he had purchased for her the previous night. Alex looked up to her briefly before resuming his attention to his AK47, which he began breaking down, fishing out the gun oil and cleaning materials. "What do you need?" he asked.

"I wanted to thank you for purchasing us."

Alex shrugged, "It was nothing, I don't like seeing people suffer, especially if they don't deserve it, which you don't seem to."

"Since we are yours now, we will do whatever you ask."

Alex chuckled, "You're free."

She didn't seem to accept this, replying, "Well...since we have nowhere really to go, would you mind if we came with you? I overheard your friends saying that they aren't from around here and are wanting to go back to where they came from. Could we, perhaps, come with you back to your home?"

"Of course," Alex replied with a grin, "If you really want to that is. Dunno what kinda jobs you guys could find that you'd be qualified for, but sure, why not?"

She then added, "We've all had combat training...it's not much, but if you're willing to train us a little more...we could protect you from dangers."

"Like bodyguards?"

She nodded, "The world is a dangerous place, and protecting you is the least we could do for what you've done for us."

Alex shrugged, "It's not necessarily out of the question, we'll see, huh?" and he returned his attention to his weapon, pausing to ask, "Why would they train slaves to be fighters?"

"Before we were slaves, we were mercenaries," Shahvee replied, "Our village was ambushed and we were captured."

"I'm sorry to hear that..."

Silence for several moments as she fingered the amulet around her neck. Finally, she shyly walked a little closer to him, "There is something else I wanted to tell you."

"What's up?" he looked up once again, annoyed but trying his best not to show it.

She stroked the necklace, "I don't think you were aware of it at the time, but normally, when someone purchases this, it's a sign that they are either seeking out someone to marry, or wanting to give it to someone they want to, someone they love."

Alex stiffened, "Seriously?"

She nodded, "Yes..."

"Uh...sorry about that, I hope you didn't..."

"It's fine," she replied, "There isn't anyone to offend, so don't worry."

"Not married?"

She shook her head, "No, that was actually one of the reasons why I was looking into that amulet."

"Oh..." Alex looked away, "Well...I'm sorry...I didn't know."

She smiled, "It's okay, you're not from around here, so I don't expect you to know of our culture and traditions..." and she turned around, hurriedly exiting the room. She paused in the doorway, turning to face him once again, fully involved with cleaning his weapon, paying her no mind. She smiled towards him, then, embarrassed, returned downstairs.

A few hours later, Alex was summoned to the palace, where he found the rest of Alpha Company, appearing annoyed and tired. He also spied the five Argonians there, all clad in tough, black, leather armor, nodding towards him. Only Shahvee couldn't hold his gaze, merely glancing up towards hims before looking away shyly. "How do I look?" she asked him.

"Like a badass," Alex chuckled, "Seriously though, like the look on you guys, pretty freaking sweet."

The other four, all males, thanked him, only Shahvee, the group's lone female, said nothing in response, turning her attention to where Dante and Ulfric strolled out of a back room with several guards, what Alex figured was the war room, heading to the throne.

"I see you wasted no time in arming those lizards," Dante said with a smirk.

Alex chuckled, "I call 'em the _Nighthawks_, they're my own personal guards..." and all five of them turned to face him, all seeming to approve of the assigned name.

"I see..." Ulfric replied, then he added, "We've had an excellent opportunity arise."

"What is it?" Alex asked.

"Some of our brothers have managed to put our rebellion into a position to cause a direct assault on Solitude, the Imperial capital here in Skyrim. Can I expect you and your team to be there with us on the battlefield?"

"Of course," the Commander replied, and the rest of Alpha Company nodded in response.

"Excellent, I'll have Dante lead you to our camp, it's a day's journey west of here."

"When are we leaving?"

"In an hour, we should be there by tomorrow evening, if all goes well."

"Still have to wonder how long it'll be before we get our powers back," Piermont sighed.

"What happened?" Dante asked.

"Imperials drugged us up on somethin', dunno what, all we know is that it canceled our mutations."

"Hmm..." Ulfric began, nodding towards Dante, "Go see Wuunferth, I'm sure he has a solution."

"Aye," Dante replied with a nod, heading upstairs.

Ulfric then turned to face Alpha Company once again, "If those Imperial mages did to you what I think they may have, it should be an easy solution. Wuunferth is my court mage, I'm sure he can fix up a potion that will restore your magic."

"Thanks..." Alex replied, genuinely stunned.

"If we are to bring down the Imperial capital, I will need you all at full strength."

Dante soon returned, carrying a bag in hand. He walked over to each member of Alpha Company, handing them a small bottle of an unknown, blue-colored fluid. "Drink this," he snapped, "It should restore your powers in full."

Alex popped out the cork from the top of the flask, smelling the fluid inside and wincing. It reeked and burned his nostrils, but wearing a disgusted grimace, he upturned the bottle, downing its contents as fast as he could. Cringing at the extremely bitter taste, he replaced the cork and examined the bottle, nearly gagging, "That's disgusting."

"Generally is," Dante replied, "But you should have your strength back within an hour."

"We will see you at the south gate in an hour," Ulfric continued, "Gather whatever food, weapons, or armors you want. We will not stop until we reach the outskirts of Solitude."

By nightfall, they were almost upon Whiterun, and Ulfric decided to make camp for the evening. Dante helped Alex erect a large tent for Alpha Company, commenting, "These nights can get very cold, but your bedrolls should keep you at least somewhat warm. My advice, however, is to sleep against one another, your shared body heat will keep you all warm."

"Wonderful..." Alex sighed.

"Just be glad we aren't camping outside in Windhelm, Whiterun is like a summer day compared to the yearly temperatures around our capital."

Alex, remembering how cold it had gotten the night he had framed the guard Asger for the theft of every stall in the market district, merely grimaced, "Yeah, I know that first hand."

"We will be continuing our march tomorrow morning, I hope you brought something other than that silly uniform of yours."

Alex chuckled, "Sorry, but this is my armor."

"It won't hold up to the nighttime cold, let alone a sword or arrow."

Alex shrugged then showed off his newly restored powers by summoning a fireball in the palm of his hand, "Think about it this way...anything they _do _manage to do to us will be little more than a scratch. We have...eh...advanced healing spells, if you will."

"I wish you luck then," Dante replied, shaking his head before marching off back to his tent.

"Yo, Alex," Piermont, in his human form, began, suddenly appearing behind the Commander, "Now we're back in action, whaddya say we hightail it outta here and get back home? We can have Elliot call Beta Company over here to kick these scrawny motherfuckers' asses."

"No," the Commander answered firmly, "I made a promise to them, and I keep my promises."

Piermont raised an eyebrow, "Like hell you did, you just said you'd join them on the battlefield, you promised nothin'."

"You forget we're trying to win their approval, right?"

"Once again, these guys got nothin' that'll help us."

"I don't care," Alex scowled, "Besides, this battle should be a pushover, have a little fun, huh? We'll head back to New Alexandria once we straighten things out."

"Yeah? And what about the lizards we got followin' us everywhere?"

"They're coming with us."

"You're kidding right?"

"Nope, it's my new personal guard, called the _Nighthawks_, as long as the _Maxia _are causing turmoil across the globe, I could really benefit from having some additional pairs of eyes keeping an eye out for any threats. Dose 'em up on the mutation serum, train them under our B.M.T program, maybe even send them through the Gauntlet..."

Piermont chuckled arrogantly, "Actually, to put it bluntly, you just wanna stay near that Shahvee chick, since there's some major boners between you two."

"The nature of our relationship is strictly platonic."

"Bullshit. Don't lie to me man," he grinned, "I saw you walk in on her when we were getting ready to go. Neither of you were phased while she walked around bare-ass nude getting dressed after bathing herself before we left."

"First of all, she wasn't nude, she was just topless. Second of all, we weren't phased because _our relationship is strictly platonic_. I have no sexual interest in her, nor does she have any sexual interest in me. We're friends, that's it."

Piermont clicked his tongue, then after several seconds, expression diminishing as he scanned Alex's thoughts, he immediately spat, "Holy shit, you're right."

Alex flashed him a victorious grin.

"Well, regardless," he immediately responded, attempting to salvage his pride, "She's got a boner for you. Frankly, I'm surprised you don't return the feeling, considering she's one sexy, scaly motherfucker, which gets your dick _real _hard."

Alex sighed.

"Seriously, how do you _not _find her attractive, I'm legit surprised here."

"Didn't say she wasn't attractive, I just said that I have no intentions of forging any kind of romantic or sexual relationship with her."

"It's cause she's anthro right? Ya know, she doesn't walk on four legs and shit."

"I have Cynder and I have Sarah, I don't need anyone else."

"So you say now..." Piermont taunted, "Five bucks that you two end up fucking within a month at the most."

Alex shrugged, "Perhaps, I sincerely doubt it, but hey, who knows...even _we _can't accurately tell the future."

"...You do realize she's crushing on you hard right?"

"I had my suspicions."

"Seriously, the way she acts...and the fact that she _doesn't even fucking care that you saw her nude_. Someone's hot for you and your rejecting it? God damn, man! What changed? Just a year ago you were bitching and moaning about how you would never find a girlfriend. Now that you have two and a third one _really _wanting your 'D', you don't seem to care at all."

"First of all, she wasn't nude, she had a towel around her waist..."

"SHE STILL FLASHED YOU HER HEADLIGHTS!" Piermont interrupted, remaining ignored.

"...And besides, the way I see it," Alex continued, never stopping, "She likes me because I'm friendly, because unlike all the other racist bullshit she's had to put up with from other humans, I actively tried to be friends with her. Plus, I rescued her, I'm sure that helps. It's an infatuation, it'll diminish eventually."

"Yeah...I don't think so...and that's not me just being an ass...that's the truth. She damn near worships you."

Alex shrugged, "So be it. She can feel however she wants to, hell, she can sit down every night and finger herself or rub off to sexy thoughts about me, but I'm not pursuing anything with her. I have enough bullshit juggling Cyn and Sarah."

"But..."

"I'm done with this conversation, Pierre," and Alex disappeared inside of their tent, a disgruntled Piermont in tow.

Early the next morning, Dante awoke the members of Alpha Company, commanding them to meet in the center of the camp for their briefing. As they piled out of their tent, joining the rest of the rebels in the snowy tundra, they could see a city far off in the distance, what they assumed could only be Solitude.

"This is it!" Ulfric began, patrolling in front of the crowd, "The final battle is nigh! When night falls again upon these ancient hills, the Imperials will no longer be in power over our people. Today we either drive them out of Skyrim for good...or we die trying. Alex, how are you and your men?"

"At full strength," Alex chuckled, producing a fireball in his palm for emphasis.

"Excellent, you will lead the assault. Slay every last Imperial bastard until there are none left standing within the walls of that damned city. Our objective is to fight to the palace, we reach there, we can usurp the throne from the Jarl. Let's move!"

Alex quickly climbed onto Piermont's back and, flanked on either side by a confident Spyro and Cynder, they rocketed into the skies above Skyrim, flying towards the city of Solitude, sitting atop a cliffside. While the Commander's Wing began to lay into the walls and the men stationed upon them, the ground-based members of Alpha Company sprinted to the gates, hoping to penetrate the walls into the city before the Stormcloaks caught up to them. Fueled by the need to prove their strength and loyalty to the Stormcloaks to reinforce their alliance, and the desire for sweet revenge against the Imperials burning hotly in their blood, Alpha Company showed no mercy on their onslaught. Not even fazed by the attacks of the defending city guard, dodging and swiftly slaying the mages that arrived to confront them, Alpha Company reached the winding road and continued to follow it towards the gates.

From the east, the Commander's Wing set the ramparts aflame, driving away the defenders on the walls, and once the entire perimeter was encircled in flame, Piermont landed upon the ruins, bellowing his powerful voice in a threatening roar to the Imperial guardsmen, fleeing in terror. "How about a kiss for good luck?" Alex asked Cynder, hovering beside him, and without another word, she kissed him lightly on the mouth before rocketing forward, commencing an aileron roll with Spyro barrel rolling around her, "Time to kick some ass!" he chuckled firmly, reigning in his mount to continue the assault.

Alpha Company soon barged through the gates, flooding into the city, the newly appointed _Nighthawks _dispersed within, giving the freed slaves a chance to prove their ability in combat. The entrance field cleared and held by the members of Alpha Company, they held their positions as the first front of Stormcloaks charged into the city, clashing with arriving Imperial reinforcements in the streets and alleyways. Ulfric soon entered the city, riding upon a mare as black as night, "Do not cease your assault! Take every last street away from them! Drive them back and corner them in their palace like the pampered rats they are!"

Here, Alpha Company dispersed throughout the city, breaking off naturally into pairs as they covered as many areas as they could at once. In the skies above, the Commander's Wing continued it's unrelenting aerial assault, bombarding the buildings and large groups of clustered guards with balls and jets of flame. As they neared the palace, evidenced as it was the most intricately designed and largest building in the city, Alex called to the rest of the wing over their mutual mind bank, "Phalanx forming in the courtyard, break 'em up!"

With another booming roar, Piermont commenced a flaming run across the brick courtyard, effortlessly dodging the spears and harpoons being thrown at them. When he arched in the air to commence another flyby, the clustered guards scattered out of their position, fleeing for cover only to be effortlessly brought down by the Commander's Wing. Those that avoided Piermont's engulfing flame were tracked down and swiftly neutralized by Spyro, acting wingman, and Cynder, covering her dragonian mate's back.

The splintered Alpha Company regrouped in the newly clear palace courtyard, holding the line against reinforcements until the Stormcloaks, specifically Ulfric's squad, could arrive to lead the charge into the palace proper. Piermont soon landed amid the carnage, the rest of their wing landing soon after. As Ulfric arrived, swiftly dismounting his beast and drawing his sword, marching intently towards the palace doors, Alex slid off his own mount's back, following Ulfric's example. While the other Stormcloaks, sans Dante, remained outside the palace to watch for Imperial support, Alpha Company followed the two Stormcloak commanders into the great hall. Immediately, they were intercepted by pikemen before being swiftly brought down. Archers, swordsmen, macemen, and halberdiers provided the last line of defense between Ulfric and the High Queen of Skyrim, but they, too, were swiftly brought down by the superior Alpha Company, opening the way for Ulfric to come face-to-face with the widowed queen.

"What is the meaning of this?" she asked fiercely.

"You and the rest of those imperial scum have committed heinous crimes against Skyrim and her people. It is time to pay the price for your sins!"

"Sins? What sins? You are the one who has been terrorizing all of Tamriel, slaying her people and building your own ego on the basis of 'liberating' your 'brothers' from the Empire. Your arrogance is a much larger crime than anything we could have possible been responsible for."

Ulfric smirked, "You think you can disrupt our culture and expect to get away with it? The Nordic people will not put up with your politics, whore!"

"You are a disgrace to Tamriel and her people, you have no say in the empire's politics."

"Is that a challenge?"

"I will have you arrested if you don't leave my presence immediately!"

"I welcome it," Alex chuckled, "Go ahead, try and see what happens. You kill him, you will make him a martyr to his people, and you'll be dead where you stand, if not to him, then to his people just waiting outside."

"Then I will take as many of them down with me as I can."

Alex prepared himself to attack, only to be called down by Ulfric, "I give you an ultimatum. Surrender to the Stormcloaks and secede from the Empire, or fall to my hand. Submit or die!"

"You will regret this..."

"Arrest her," Ulfric ordered to Dante, who then proceeded to approach her, flanked by several Stormcloak guards who had decided to follow them inside.

Ulfric, standing with Alpha Company and the _Nighthawks _watched as Dante escorted the queen out of the palace and outside. Finally, once they had vanished, the grizzled man turned to face Alex, "I must thank you. I would have been unable to succeed without your help."

Alex shrugged, "It's nothing."

"Let there be many years of peace between our people."

Alex nodded firmly, "We have to get back home...but I'll be sure to send some troops over here, we'll start colonizing the area, train you and your guys to use modern techniques, like those from where we came from...we'll turn Tamriel into a fortress."

"If ever you are in need of my assistance, feel free to ask."

Alex chuckled, "Thank you for the offer, truly, but unfortunately, I don't think you guys will stand much a chance against the _Maxia_, especially as equipped as you are right now. They are some very powerful, very advanced soldiers...enough that it gives _us _a run for our money. I'll keep the offer in mind though, nevertheless."

"Good luck on your war, we will continue fighting back against the Empire, hopefully one day we can free all of Tamriel from its influence."

"Thanks, and good luck on _your _mission as well. We'll have some Beta Company guys stationed here...more dragons, so you may want to warn your friends...if there's anything you need, just give 'em a call and they can bring us back here."

"Aye, that will work."

Alex bowed to the king, who proceeded to bow back before Alpha Company finally turned around, heading back outside. Once outside, Piermont, returning to his natural form, asked, "So...now what?"

"Now we return to New Alexandria," Alex replied bitterly, "We need to be at the top of our game and be ready for anything. The _Maxia _are unpredictable, if we hope to stand a chance against them, we need to be prepared for anything."

Piermont nodded towards the Argonians, "What do we do about them?"

"They're coming with us," Alex replied, "Can use some mercs for bodyguards, especially with the _Maxia _around. Who knows when 'Necro' or the Tartarus Unit will try to step up their efforts to nail our balls to the wall."

"But..." and Piermont sounded unsure, "They'll be ripped apart, man..."

"That's why I'll mutate them and train them. As I'm sure you know by now, once I'm through with them, they'll be some of the deadliest, most efficient warriors on the planet."

"When we gonna get started?" Piermont chuckled.

"Tomorrow, maybe, depending on what's going on."

"Shit man, why not today? Got all day and all night."

"He doesn't have the night," Cynder chuckled, appearing beside them from seemingly out of nowhere, "He's with me tonight," and she winked at the Commander before continuing on, flipping her tail up at him and flashing herself in the process.

Piermont sighed, "Damn her."

With a light chuckle, Alex nodded forward, "Right, let's go."


	30. Chapter XXIX: The Parallel Crisis

_**Chapter XXIX**_**:**

**-''The Parallel Crisis''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**05 February 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0118 Hours**_**-**

Alex climbed out of the hot tub on Club Camelot's penthouse floor's west balcony, quickly drying himself off with a towel before making his way back to the curtained, sliding glass door leading back into the club. Tossing the towel into the laundry basket near the door, he walked across the ceramic tile floors _en route _to Suite 1. First, however, he paused by Suite 4, knocking gently on the door before letting himself inside. Four of the _Nighthawks _were sitting around the living room, enthralled by the shopping channel on the television. They all looked up to face him, he only nodded, looking around, "Where's Shahvee?"

Scouts-Many-Marshes, one of the males, responded, "She's in her room, last we saw her. She was asking for you earlier."

"Thanks," the Commander replied, letting himself into her room. The female Argonian was standing outside on her balcony, looking outside in awe at the sprawling city to the south, "Everything okay?"

Shahvee immediately turned to face him, "Alex! It's good to see you!" and the Commander noticed that she was fingering the amulet around her neck.

"How you guys doing?" he asked, stepping out and standing beside her, looking out towards the city.

"We're doing fine," she replied, "Thanks again for everything you've done for us...I just wish there was some way I could repay you..."

He chuckled, "Don't worry about it, I'm just glad you guys are getting along well."

She nodded, "When will we be sent out on missions?"

"Whenever we are," he replied, "Though I'll probably put you guys through the Gauntlet first. You guys been practicing with that sniper rifle?"

She nodded, "Yes...it's unusual, we're used to crossbows...but it's an interesting weapon nevertheless."

"Well, I probably won't put you guys directly on the front lines, you don't have enough experience in our way of combat, and I'm afraid you'll get hurt. The _Maxia _possesses things capable of really screwing up our mutations...it's way too dangerous, at least right now."

"What's the Gauntlet?"

He chuckled again, "A giant virtual reality simulator, hidden deep underground somewhere nobody 'cept for me knows. Basically, you put on this circlet-like device, and it uses some fancy technology to plant false memories to override your short-term memory, so you'll wake up in this fantasy world, not realizing that it's not real. We put you on a complicated mission that tests your ability...the experience is unique to the individual. There are hundreds of variables that go into it, programming a unique experience for the participant. I wouldn't be too worried though, if you know anything about combat, you can complete it naturally, with flying colors."

"I see...even though I didn't understand a single thing you said..."

"Yeah...it's kinda confusing to explain, you'll see for yourself though."

Silence fell before them for several moments before Alex turned to head back towards Suite 1. "Wait...Alex..."

He stopped in his tracks, turning to face her, alarmed when she forcefully hugged him, kissing him hard on the mouth. After several seconds, she broke off the contact, blushing and looking away, "Thank you...really. You saved our lives back there..."

Face hot, he shook his head, trying to find something to say. However, his mind was blank, his train of thought having crashed from Shahvee's surprising display of affection, "D...Don't worry about it," he replied, "It was nothing...I'm just glad you guys are happy here..." then he added, "Anyway, I'm going to bed, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Alex," she responded, looking out over the city again. Sending her a final glance, he turned on his heels, heading back inside the club, still stunned by the kiss.

Upon entering Suite 1, finding most of Alpha Company having already retired for the night, he began to head back to his room before he was called to by Cynder. He turned around, watching the she-dragon entering the suite and trotting over to him, "Hold on a sec."

"What do you need, Cyn?" he asked.

"Can I borrow you for a little bit?"

"Sure, I guess..." he responded, confused, and he followed Cynder into the room she shared with Spyro, neighboring his. The purple dragon himself was sitting on the bed, watching television. He turned to face Alex, nodding towards him, "How you doing, Spy?"

"Pretty good," he replied, then to Cynder, "Everything okay?"

"I have a request for you two..." she began, eyes shifting between both of her mates.

"What's up?" they both replied in unison.

Cynder grinned towards Spyro, who then, as if suddenly knowing what was going on, sighed and looked away, "Don't tell me..."

"Hey, you promised!" the she-dragon protested.

"But...come on, Cyn! Really?"

"Yes, _really_!"

"What exactly is going on?" Alex asked, confused, "I don't get it..."

Cynder grinned mischievously towards him, "Are you up for a little flight?"

"Um...sure, I guess...?"

"Wonderful!" and she trotted over to the doors leading out onto the balcony their balcony.

Alex sent Spyro a questioning glance, who frowned unhappily, "Don't ask..."

Stepping outside onto the balcony, Cynder crouched, "Hop on, Alex, let's go."

Still clad in his swimming shorts, Alex cast her a puzzled stare, "I'm not really dressed..."

"Don't worry about it," she replied, "You won't need to be dressed for this."

"Oh boy..." and suddenly Alex had an idea of what she was thinking. Although he didn't know _what _the dragoness wanted, he knew that it was most likely something sexual. Reluctantly, he climbed onto her back, wincing as she, with little warning, rocketed off the balcony and towards the Burned Lands north of the city, Spyro following along behind. "I don't understand," the Commander called over the roar of the wind, "What is going on?"

"You'll see!" she replied with a giggle, and as they passed through the forcefield and into the charred wastelands beyond the city walls, Cynder finally lowered towards the ground, eventually landing a good mile north of the city's outer walls. Alex dismounted and Spyro landed beside him, both watching as the she-dragon trotted into a small niche set into the side of a mountain. Only when all three had ducked into the niche, passing through a wide crevice into a small, circular cave did Cynder turn to face her mates.

"So...the hell are we here for?" Alex asked, but Cynder only continued to grin towards him. He sent a worried glance to Spyro, who only sighed.

"So..." Cynder finally began, examining her tail blade, "About a week ago, I had this brilliant idea."

"Oh great..." Alex sighed.

"No really! It's a good one! So, anyway, I had an...interesting dream about you two, and I woke up with an idea."

"Please don't say it's anything...like with me or him..." Alex frowned towards the purple dragon, scales growing pale.

"Well...kinda," Cynder smirked, and she finally admitted, "I want you two, to take little old me on. Double team."

"_What_!?" Alex exclaimed, "You're not serious are you?"

"She's serious..." Spyro sighed, "Don't worry, I had the same reaction."

"You agreed to this?"

"She was holding some...things...over my head...nothing you need to worry about."

"Oh! Come on, now! It won't be that bad, you take on hole, Alex, Spyro takes the other."

"But I..."

"You want the butt then, Alex?" Cynder chuckled, "Fair enough," and she turned her backs to them.

"Now wait a minute...I'm not really comfortable with this...with...him!"

"Trust me, Alex..." Spyro sighed, "I want to be face-to-face with your...self...as much as you do me...especially after what the Tartarus Unit made us do. Unfortunately, I don't have a say in the matter."

"Come on, Alex," she pleaded, "Please?"

"Why should I?"

"How about this," Cynder frowned, "You do this for me, and I'll do something special for you. No limitations, no denials, I will do whatever it is you want for one of our sessions, if you do this for me."

Reluctantly, Alex glanced at Spyro who only replied, "Like I said, she's holding something over me, so I can't really deny it. It's up to you though."

"Please?" Cynder asked, purposely giving him a puppy-eyed look.

Alex scowled, "God dammit, Cyn! Fine, just this once."

"Yay!" and she hopped around happily, "Thank you!"

"Yeah, yeah...let's just get this over with."

"That was my reaction," Spyro replied.

"Oh come on you guys, have a little fun, huh?" Cynder teased, crouching forward and raising her tail, "I'll let you two duke it out as to what you do."

Alex was startled awake from his sleep by something. Suddenly afraid, he looked around, noticing that the hairs on his arms, legs, and neck were standing on end. There was almost an electric feel to the air, and something felt very off. He turned to face the two small Realm dragons, sleeping soundly together on the floor of the cave, then he looked out towards the bright light of the _Fiernes Curtain _shining through the crevice. Suddenly, a harsh, terrified, unidentified female whisper reached his ears, her voice containing an eerie, ghostly reverb effect, "_He's here!_"

Alex immediately looked around for the source of the voice, seeing nothing. He was vaguely aware of what almost sounded like the muffled, disembodied crying of a young girl, sending chills down the Commander's spine.

"_Don't let him find you!_" the horrified whisper spoke again, and Alex, now instantly alert, rushed through the crevice, fleeing outside into the Burned Lands. "_NO! Not out there!_" but before he had a chance to go back into hiding, the Commander felt a powerful blow to the side, sending him flying several feet to the left, hitting the ground hard and knocking the wind out of his lungs. He struggled to catch his breath, turning to face the force that had struck him, crying out when he saw an equine silhouette standing between him and the _Fiernes Curtain_.

"What...?" he managed, "Who's there!?"

"It's been a long, _long _time, Commander Vaughn," a sinister voice spoke, immediately turning Alex's attention to face a man standing near the crevice he had emerged from. The man was clad in heavy steel armor, bearing no weapon aside from a sword sheathed at his waist.

"General 'Necro'..." Alex managed with a snarl, righting himself as the _Maxian _commander approached him.

"No need to be hostile, Commander," 'Necro' chuckled, "I just wanted to have a little...chat..."

"How did you find me?"

"These mutations work wonders, boy."

"Damn it, 'Necro'! What do you want from me, huh? What the hell did I ever do to you to deserve the _Maxia's _ire!?"

'Necro' chuckled, "What, did President Mabao never tell you the reason for his declaration?"

"Well if he did, I sure as hell wasn't listening."

The pegasus, her wings outspread, stepped menacingly towards Alex, only for 'Necro' to exclaim, "Stand down, Silver, I just want to speak to him."

"But..."

"Stand down, girl."

"What could you _possibly _want?" Alex growled, "If it's my unconditional surrender, you best either be ready to fight, or be on your way, cause I ain't gonna submit to you. I'll die before I surrender," and he pulled his way up against the side of the mountain, wincing as 'Necro' approached him.

"Do you want to know why we're in this war? Why the _Maxia _lust for your neutralization?"

"Yeah, kinda."

'Necro' chuckled, approaching Alex as he began, "Sit tight and let me tell you a little story," he crouched in front of the Commander, saying, "First, allow me to tell you _my _story. Seven years ago, I was a Navy SEAL, one of the most respected sailors in the entire fleet. Then Command heard rumors that the LKA were moving weapons around Istanbul, Turkey. In a joint operation with the Terminator Militia, I was paired with one Captain Aaron Carter. Under the cover of darkness, we were dropped into Istanbul, ordered to break into a shipping warehouse to disrupt the LKA's operation. Well, we did, and we found the weapons. The problem was that the company, a little family-run operation, did not know about it. The father, and older man, terrified by the people who had broke into his warehouse, walked in on us planting explosives on the crates, and we found ourselves staring into the barrel of a shotgun. Captain Carter shot him down without even giving us a chance to explain ourselves, without a care in the world. Next thing I know, another shot rings through the air, and I looked to see the captain collapse onto the ground, a pool of blood gathering around his corpse. A little boy, only about six, seven years old held his father's shotgun, crying at his father's side. Carter's second-in-command was about to kill the boy until I talked him down. With this arrogant smirk, he turned to me and said, 'Jack, you do it, if you don't want me to, _you _do it!' Of course I refused, the boy was merely defending himself and his family, he had no idea who we were or what was going on. When I wouldn't kill the boy, this...man...Carter's second, he shot the boy down, emptied an entire magazine into his body. Then he turned to me and said, 'THIS is how you fight a war, I thought you would know that, Jack.'

"Well...word got out of what happened. This soldier went back to Elliot and told him about my resistance to 'complete the mission'. Elliot had me reported to my superiors and I was dishonorably discharged for insubordination, and for causing this international incident. Thankfully, I had some friends in high places, they agreed to spare me from punishment and clear my name...at the cost that I became a ghost. I complied and was subsequently erased from the world. Do you want to know how hard it is to make a living when you don't exist? They wouldn't create a new identity for me, I still don't know why, maybe they were afraid of loose ends. Eventually, I found myself living on the streets, poor, hungry, homeless...I had a mental breakdown, turned myself into a mental institution on Helena. I had a good life there, three meals a day, a roof over my head, free cable and wi-fi, I even made a very good friend there. Then President Mabao arrives, offering me a chance to fight again if I agreed to join his _Maxian _Regime against the Terminator Militia. I was thirsty for combat, lusting for revenge against the people who had destroyed me, and I fell for his snare. Pretty soon, I realized that I had received a raw deal, the short end of the straw, if you will. Mabao was glorifying his precious Tartarus Unit, while I was consistently mistreated and verbally abused. I completed my objectives without question, yet Mabao never kept his promises, eventually saying that, because I kept asking, I was _never _going to get my life back..." 'Necro' smirked, "He proceeded to order me to plan out an assault on New Alexandria, which I did without question...I was following orders, hopefully to earn his trust back. Then he walked in on me having a private conversation with my dear friend...and he said that, although he would be unable to give me my life back, if I could secure victory for the _Maxia_, he would release her from the asylum and reunite us. I eventually realized that it was another scam, but even though he blackmails me with these shallow promises, I continue fighting with the vain hope that he _will _keep his end of the bargain."

"And Mabao?" Alex asked, unsure of what exactly to think.

"Well, several years later, the LKA had a bit of a...resurgence. The LKA Uprising culminated in your forces invading Junior Town and slaughtering everyone who wouldn't swear loyalty to the Terminator Militia. Among those caught up in the invasion was the family of Barry Manfred Mabao, imprisoned under allegations of LKA alignment, even though they were neutral, and wrongfully executed for their assumed crimes. Tied to a pole and executed by firing squad, in public, at the dawn of one bright, summer day, Mabao, who was out of state at the time, returned home to find that he had missed the funeral and burial of his loved ones. No one had even bothered telling him of what had happened, fearing that he would be upset if news got out of their assumed loyalty to the LKA. Regardless of what you may think, Commander Vaughn, regardless of how you may believe that your little army is pure at heart with absolutely no concept of evil...your actions have had consequences. Innocent lives have been extinguished under wrongful accusations and assumptions, and you, nor Alpha Company, nor the High Command so much as bat an eye. We, the _Maxia_, fight for the people, we fight for the common good, for justice. We don't do more damage than we must, and if something unexpected _does _happen, we sure as hell don't brush it under the rug and pretend that it didn't happen. Of course we all make mistakes, but we try not to keep making them, we _learn _from them," he chuckled darkly, "Then again, what else should I expect from the legendary _Son of Satan_, a ruthless child soldier, responsible for the grisly deaths of hundreds, both soldiers _and _civilians. Mabao wants to exterminate you as mercilessly as you exterminated his family and all those people when you were in _Devha_, even though, admittedly, you weren't exactly aware of the exact nature of your actions when you were still in that damned cult.You may have indirectly destroyed my life, but I believe in redemption and forgiveness. I believe that, when faced with the truth of your sins, there is a chance that you will strive to redeem yourself. I'm showing you more mercy than Mabao ever would, and I'm offering you a peaceful exit. You surrender to me, and I will hide you and Alpha Company from both Mabao and the Tartarus Unit. I'm a man of my word."

"Why did you leak the ARK's details to Elliot?"

'Necro' chuckled, "As I said, I believe in justice. That weapon would have done much more than simply wipe New Alexandria off the face of the map. Besides, the Tartarus Unit have wronged me in more ways than one, why not simultaneously save lives and sabotage those idiots in the process? Anyway, what's your decision, Commander Vaughn? Surrender to me? Or reject me and face the wrath of the _Maxia_?"

"Just kill me already you idiot!" Alex hissed, "I'd rather die than surrender to your fascist government!"

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so during our encounter last year."

Alex coldly laughed, "Kill me, I'm not surrendering to you."

'Necro''s grin instantly dissolved, "You will learn to regret your decision, Commander Vaughn," and he forcefully placed the palm of his hand against Alex's chest, beginning to glow a deep blue.

A painful heat surged through the Commander's body, and as the word around him began to lose his solidity, he asked, "What!? What the _hell _are you doing to me!"

"I don't kill children," 'Necro' replied, frowning as Alex vanished in a flash of heat and light. When it cleared, the _Maxian _general stood back up once again, staring towards where Alex had been sitting, "I _still _don't," and with a sigh, he beckoned Silver over to him, mounting her and signaling her to take to the skies, heading back home.

Alex's alarm clock sounded off, awakening him from his slumber. With a groan, he slapped the snooze button, reading 7:00 AM, shifting to the other side and curling up in his covers again. Ten minutes later, it went off again, and with a growl, the boy kicked the covers off of him, climbing out of bed and stretching, scratching he rear as he put on the glasses by his bedside and stumbled into the bathroom, yawning and relieving himself. As he washed his hands, he looked into the mirror, then suddenly frowned as he realized what was going on. He wasn't in Club Camelot, he wasn't even in New Alexandria...he was in his parents home in Vermilion. As he stared into the mirror, his jaw dropped at what he saw. An almost alien boy stared back at him, with an acne-covered face, greasy hair flowing down to his shoulders and not a single scar on his body, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose through which his intelligent blue eyes shined. "Oh no..."

Alex threw open the bathroom door, rushing into the living room of the dark house, where he quickly threw open the front door and looked around at the early morning around him. Sure enough, he was in Vermilion. Eyes turning to the sky, they widened in fear as he noticed the absence of the black ribbon of the _Ring_.

"Fucking hell..."

He turned around, rushing back into the house and finding Alpha Company laying around the living room floor, still asleep.

"Guys!" he hissed, "Guys! Wake up! Something's wrong!"

Spyro and Cynder were the first to awaken, instantly alert to their unusual surroundings. When the others awoke soon after, they also exhibit shock and surprise at the change in scenery. Hearing footsteps, they all turned to face Alex's parents sleepily walk into the living room, his mother asking, "Honey...are you ready for school?"

"Sc...school?" Alex choked, "Uh..." he turned to face the rest of Alpha Company, "Guys..."

"What's going on?" Spyro asked, looking frantically around, "How the hell did we _get _here?"

"I don't know..." Alex replied grimly, "But I don't like it."

His mother groaned, "Really, Alex?" she scowled, "What did we tell you? You're a little too old to be talking to imaginary friends."

"Huh?" Alex exclaimed, caught off guard, then, with a hiss, "I'm not _talking _to imaginary friends, I'm talking to Spyro."

She groaned, "And you wonder why everyone makes fun of you..." before walking away.

"Wait...hold on a sec!" he chased after her, "Can't you see them?"

She did not seem amused, "All I see is a seventeen year old talking to thin air. You're almost an adult, way too old to still have imaginary friends."

His face draining of color, Alex returned to the living room, where he found the rest of Alpha Company, still looking as real as normal, staring up into the sky, "Fuck me..." Piermont growled, "How the hell...where _are _we? Cause we sure as hell ain't in Kansas anymore."

"I don't know," Alex frowned, "But apparently mom can't see you."

"What happened!?" Spyro exclaimed, near panic, "Why can't I sense you guys!? Where's our powers!?"

They had walked to the defunct high school across the street, its back parking lot serving as the bus stop to the active high school they attended in Ellsworth, about ten miles south.

"Settle down, Spearow," Piermont bit, sticking a cigarette in the corner of his mouth, "Ain't the end of the fuckin' world."

"We don't have any powers!" Spyro exclaimed once again, "This is even _worse _than the bullshit we dealt with in the Gothics! No telepathy, no telekinesis, I don't even have my elemental breaths...and we can't sense each other! Damn it, what the _hell _is going on!?"

"I don't know," Alex sighed, "All I remember is that I was confronted by 'Necro', then he touched me and...there was this burning sensation and...now here I am."

"'Necro'!?" almost every member of Alpha Company exclaimed in unison, and Alex proceeded to tell them about what had happened in the Burned Lands, conveniently leaving out his experience with Spyro and Cynder shortly before, instead claiming that he had decided to go out for a late night flight with the dragons.

"Y'know," Piermont growled, "I wonder if that bastard sent us to some kinda parallel universe."

"What?" Alex asked.

"You said he was glowing blue right?"

"Yeah..."

"And here we are. Usually that's the color for teleportation, so maybe he sent us to some kinda world where Alpha Co. apparently don't exist and we ain't got no magic."

"But why? Do parallel universes even _exist_!?"

Piermont shrugged, "Considering all these supposedly fictional worlds and characters ended up here, I assume they gotta come from _somewhere_, amirite? Parallel universes mean that I'm sure there's at least _one _world out there without us," he then reclined against the school building.

"Why are you powerless then?" Alex asked, "Since you're clearly from the world where we all come from, and more importantly, _why can't mom see you_!?"

"Not just your mom..." Cynder replied, nodding behind him, and Alex turned to find all of the high school students standing around awkwardly, staring at him with cynical humor and amusement.

"Son of a..." Alex sighed, turning to face them again, "Great...can _nobody _see you?"

"Doesn't look like it," Cynder replied.

"That's just...that's fucking wonderful..." and he collapsed against the building, sliding down the brick wall to a sitting position beside Piermont, smoking in silence.

Cynder walked over to him, affectionately nuzzling against him, and he idly pet her, ignoring as the students broke out into wild laughter, one of them taunting, "You tripping balls, Alex? Gimme some of what you're smoking!"

"I can't believe this..." he bemoaned.

"Just...play along, okay?" Cynder replied, "Don't worry, we'll figure this out."

"How can we get back home if we're powerless?"

"We'll find a way," the dragoness consoled, "Don't worry."

The bus soon arrived, Alex purposely waiting until the other kids had boarded until he finally climbed into it. The bus driver closed the door behind him, shutting out Alpha Company until Alex frantically told him to open the door again. With an annoyed sigh, he did, asking, "Why?"

"Just...hold on a moment..." and once everyone had made it on, Alex turned to face the driver again, "Okay, we're good."

The driver only shook his his, ordering, "Sit down."

Alex took a seat at the front, sitting beside Spyro and Cynder. Most of the kids sat at the back of the bus, while Alpha Company remained clustered together at the front. "This is gonna get old _real _quick," Spyro frowned.

"Agreed," Cynder replied in irritation.

The trip to the school was uninteresting, with Cynder curled in Alex's lap, allowing him to pet her lovingly. Spyro leaned up against the dragoness, and Alex looked around him, finding all members of Alpha Company either staring off into the distance, lost in thought, or sleeping. Alex's thoughts turned to 'Necro', and he wondered what the man had done to him, where he had sent them.

They arrived at the school soon after, with Alex purposely standing in the way of the door to keep the bus driver from closing it before all of Alpha Company had departed. As the vehicle drove off, heading back to Vermilion, Alex entered the school with his unseen companions, immediately feeling vulnerable and out of place. He was surrounded by kids chatting and gossiping around the 'student commons', with several of them turning to smirk at him.

"I feel so alien here..." Cynder began uneasily, but Alex only nodded in response.

While digging around in his locker for his English IV book, what was normally the first class of the day, he instead found that he possessed an English I textbook in its place...a class that he hadn't had since Freshman year. Scowling, he hissed to his invisible companions, "Not only did 'Necro' send us to a parallel universe...but he sent us four years back in time..."

"What do you mean?" Spyro asked, and Alex checked the calender hanging on the wall of his locker, frowning as he spied that it was October of 2008.

"Fucking hell," he sighed, trying to remember what his first hour class was. Making a mental note to stop by the offices and ask for a copy of his schedule, he grabbed a previously unseen notebook, something he could not recall ever keeping. Confused, he skimmed through it, finding that his 'otherworld' self had apparently been writing a book in his spare time. What alarmed him most about this discovery was that it wasn't just _any _book, it was one detailing his adventures with a bunch of familiar characters: Namely Spyro, Cynder, and Piermont, with both Cheet and Rudolph making frequent appearances. The blood drained from his face as he tucked the notebook deep into his binder, closing the locker and proceeding to the office, where he was directed to the contemporary news class, instructed by one of his favorite teachers, Marian Williams.

Flanked on either side by Alpha Company's members, Alex trudged into the classroom, taking his old seat and rubbing his temples, trying to figure out what the hell was going on around here and how to stop it. Cynder groaned uneasily, and he turned to face her, alarmed when he noticed that she was starting to become transparent. The others in his unit also seemed to be afflicted by pain, and they, too, began to fade.

"Guys...are you feeling okay?"

"I...I'm not sure..." Cynder managed, "My stomach...it hurts..."

Piermont growled, "Great...food poisoning?"

Alex's face paled, "Guys...you're...you're fading away."

"What?" and Piermont observed himself, alarmed to find that he was not only semi-transparent, almost ghostlike, but as he touched himself, his arm began to pass through his body.

"I've got a bad feeling about this..." Spyro began, worried.

'Necro' unlocked the door to his apartment, entering the small but cozy chamber and removing his coat and boots, relaxing on the couch and expanding his mind, searching for and establishing a telepathic connection with Lucy. The female presence excitedly welcomed him, causing the general to chuckle to himself, "Lucy, forgive me for the long wait, things have been quite hectic recently."

A knock on his door suddenly interrupted his private conversation. Before he could even have a chance to react, it burst open, the Tartarus Unit entering his chambers and standing before him, neither one looking happy.

"What the hell do you want?" he scowled.

"Where did you send those furry bastards?" Observer hissed.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know very well what we're talking about, dumbass!" Xerxes snapped in his nasally, high-pitched tone of voice, "We saw you talkin' to that idiot boy near the Quads, where did you send him?"

"What?"

"Are you stupid?" Observer hissed, "Alpha Company has mysteriously vanished off the face of Planet Earth, where did you send them?"

"First off, how would you even know if I was speaking to them, and secondly, I don't know _where _they are, I haven't seen them for quite some time."

"Don't lie to us, 'Necro'! We _know _you went to talk to that freaking boy, _where_ did you send him? You either tell _us_, or we'll see if your damned _horse _would like to tell us."

"If you hurt Silver..."

"You'll do what?" Xerxes smirked, "Sic your little 'Lucy' on us?" he chuckled, "Yeah, we know all about your imaginary girlfriend."

"She's not imaginary," 'Necro' replied darkly, "And if you idiots _continue _to insult me, I _will _have you arrested."

Observer bust out into wild laughter, "Yeah? We'd like to see you try. Mabao has given us complete control over the _Maxia_'s operations, you're being phased out, _old man_. You had your chance to shine and you _blew _it."

'Necro' growled, standing up and stepping menacingly towards them, "It's _your _fault they managed to get that damned dragon back on their side."

"Yeah? Cept we caught 'em all, that's more than what _you've _achieved!"

"Yeah? And what did you do with them? You decided to get your perverted kicks and force Commander Vaughn and his second-in-command to deepthroat each other, you didn't kill them, and you sure as hell didn't send them to Mabao! Maybe if you would have done your mission instead of once more abandoning orders to benefit yourselves we wouldn't be _in _this mess!"

Observer then pulled out a silenced 9mm, taking aim at the general, wearing a grin, "Poisoned bullets, will kill even muties...so, how about you don't test us and simply tell us what we want to know."

'Necro', furious at his defeat, reluctantly submitted, "Fine! I sent them away."

"Where to?"

He shrugged, "I don't know, I just sent them somewhere random."

"You son of a..." Observer replied, preparing to pull the trigger before his phone suddenly rang. With a growl, he picked it up, taking the call. Finally hanging up, he turned to face his companion, "Mabao found them...somehow."

"Let me guess," Xerxes sighed, "That _Deitus_ guy again?"

Observer grinned, "Likely."

"Deitus?" 'Necro' asked.

"Yeah, the dude who Mabao says told him that _you _were sneaking off to speak to that stupid furry," Xerxes replied.

"We're not done here," Observer continued, addressing 'Necro', "We _will _be back to finish this."

"I welcome it," 'Necro' replied, frowning. Once they had left the room, 'Necro', with a sigh, sat back down on his couch, whispering, "Dearest Lucy, I do hope that the Shade King will take those fools down if the Terminators will not."

During English, Alex concentrated on trying to use his telekinesis, attempting to life the pencil laying on his desk into the air, but to no avail. With a sigh as he finally gave up trying, a harsh pain tore through his abdomen, as if he had been stabbed. Grimacing as the pain faded away, he heard Cynder cry out in alarm, and he turned to watch as she faded even more. The others of Alpha Company were also similarly affected, and Alex became very concerned. He felt sick to his stomach, something wasn't right here, and watching as his friends began to fade into nothingness filled him with a certain, inexplicable fear.

"Alex..." Spyro began in a distressed voice, "We _need _to get back home...it's like...I can feel this universe trying to erase me from existence."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" Alex whispered in a low, rapid voice, eyes anxiously scanning the room to ensure he remained unnoticed. Thankfully, most of the students were attentive to the teacher's lesson.

"I'm just trying to figure out what's going on..." Piermont grimaced, watching as his ghostly arm passed through his phantom legs, "Shit, man...if we don't figure out how to stop...whatever is happening to us...it's gonna really suck."

"Will we just completely vanish from existence?" Cynder asked in a fearful voice.

"Hell, I'm more worried about the fact that I can't jack off any more," Piermont managed, attempting to lighten the mood, "Pretty sure sex is outta the question, too."

"Not the time for that, Pierre!" Alex hissed, and a strange feeling filled him as he felt a slumbering presence deep within his mind awaken: Necrodusk, a demon he had been born indwelt with.

_Nice to join us, Necro_, Alex thought to the unseen, possessing creature.

_What is going on around here? _the shadow-demon snarled, _I'm trying to sleep!_

_What's wrong?_

_Something keeps tingling, an uncomfortable itch, and a feeling that I'm being torn from this body._

_Not you, too... _Alex thought to him, distressed.

_Where are we?_

_Bad guys sent us here...do you know what's going on?_

_Hmph...this universe feels...eerie...unnatural. Normally I can sense aura's of organisms around us...but I feel nothing...all I know is that it's trying to erase me._

_What?_

_It would seem that this universe's physics differ greatly from the Base World's...it's anti-Terminator, if you will._

_Base World? What the hell is that?_

But Necrodusk had once more retreated into the depths of his mind, although Alex could sense the presence wasn't sleeping, but was lost in thought, likely pondering a way to help them, or at least find a way for him to escape this hostile universe. The Commander was uncomfortably aware of Necrodusk tinkering around with the inner workings of his mind and body. Part of him would occasionally go numb, whether it was a finger, a foot, an arm, or something else, as the demon toyed with possession and other unknown and worrisome actions. Alex called out to the creature to settle down, but found that it couldn't seem to hear him, or was ignoring him.

A few hours later, school finally let out. Alex stepped outside, heading towards the boss, the rapidly fading Alpha Company surrounding him. Not only were they losing corporeality, but even their voices were becoming distant and echoed, as if he was trying to hear them from the other side of a cave, even when they stood right beside him. Only Alex remained a solid form, as real as ever, and he was becoming increasingly worried. Necrodusk, still working haphazardly around the Commander's body, also seemed to be losing grasp with reality as he raced to do whatever it was he was trying to do.

_Necrodusk! Do you know what's going on yet? _The Commander asked the indwelling presence as he took his seat on the bus, shoving another Freshman out of the seat after he had sat upon Piermont. The human-form dragon shuddered at the contact, protesting that it felt strange and ghostlike, since he no longer seemed to claim any physical space.

_I'm working as hard as I can, Alex! _the demon exclaimed in a borderline hysterical tone of voice, also echoed and distant, _This world is _STRONGLY_ anti-Base World, and unless we get back home soon, we will cease to exist entirely and be beyond retrieval!_

_Why am I not affected? Everyone else is but me!_

_Messorem holds a foot in each realm of reality! He is connected and distributed evenly through all universes, multiverses, and possible even the very Omniverse itself! Naturally his... _and Necrodusk's voice ceased to be comprehensible, growing increasingly quiet.

_Necro!? NECRODUSK! _Alex was now fully terrified, breaking out in a cold sweat, limbs trembling uncontrollably. He felt sick to his stomach, and he stood up, clambering over to the driver and demanding to be let out. At first, he seemed irritated at the interruption and quickly began to scold the Commander until he noticed that Alex's skin had become an ashen color, and he was wobbling in place. Immediately, he pulled over, opening the door as Alex stumbled out into the streets of Ellsworth, doubling over and vomiting. He stood up, head rolling, vision spinning like Las Vegas reels. Soon, his entire lower body went numb and he collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, heart beating painfully in his ears, tinnitus nearly deafening him. His vision grayed as he neared unconscious, and his heart beat powerfully, feeling as if it was about to explode from his chest.

The driver climbed out, running over to him and trying to speak to him. Alex couldn't respond, he was paralyzed and completely deaf through his ringing ears. The world began to move in slow motion, and that was when he saw clouds begin to circle in the skies above, swirling around an eye. From out of nowhere, the wind picked up, lightning flashed, striking everywhere around him, and his eyes widened as he watched the world warp and pulsate behind the bus. He watched in horror as an inter-dimensional rift formed where the world had been pulsing, its fabric ripping and almost unzipping to reveal what appeared to be a portal to the Southern Wastelands. Through it, Alex could see the _Fiernes Curtain _burning on in the horizon, and against charred earth and bloody skies, the tanks of the Hermann-Reid lined up before the opening. The bus driver stumbled back, dumbfounded and stricken with fear as the phenomenon as Alex, unable to move, watched the tanks move forward, the bull face used as the _Maxia_'s insignia stenciled upon one side of the tanks, with the demonic, caprine face stenciled upon the other side, the insignia of the Hermann-Reid.

As the black body-armored Hermann-Reid infantry rushed through the portal, surrounding the incapacitated Alex, taking aim towards him, they split in the middle, allowing the Tartarus Unit to stroll forward, both wearing wide, victorious grins. Observer stood above Alex, and when the bus driver finally picked himself up to try and save the boy, Xerxes, standing beside his partner, casually pulled out his Desert Eagle and shot the man dead. After saying something that Alex couldn't hear, Observer crouched down, picking up the Commander by the throat and lifting him into the air, pinning him against the side of the bus. With his free hand, he reached into a small satchel hanging against the side of his full body armor, painted an olive green, withdrawing a large syringe filled with a dark purple liquid. The Commander could even feel the injection into his jugular through his paralysis as Observer emptied the contents of the syringe into his body, proceed to effortlessly toss the boy over his shoulders and lead him towards the portal.

As feeling slowly began to return to the boy's body, Alex, remembering what Necrodusk had rambled on about the world's anti-Terminator physics, reached over and withdrew Observer's combat knife, sheathed carelessly on his waist. Before he could react, the Commander drove the blade deep into the man's lower back, who howled in pain and drop the boy to the ground. The Hermann-Reid readying to shoot once again, Alex quickly scurried back to the portal passing through to find that he wasn't in the Southern Wastelands, but was, in fact, in the northern Burned Lands, roughly where he had been intercepted by 'Necro'. As soon as he passed through the dimensional tear and back into his home world, he felt his strength surge back through his body and he was able to pick himself up, breaking out into a full sprint and racing towards the distant city of New Alexandria, engaging a small group of the Hermann-Reid, likely doing little more than distracting the Terminator forces so the Tartarus Unit could retrieve the Commander.

Behind him, the _Maxian _infantry raced through the portal as it began to flicker dangerously, threatening to close. They fired upon the fleeing Commander, ducking behind the ruined husk of a former 'King' Tiger II tank, used by the militia before it's destruction during one of the numerous battle of New Alexandria. He chanced to peek out of cover long enough to watch Xerxes struggling to pull the downed Observer back through the portal before it closed, with the nearly invisible Alpha Company right on their heels. Once both Alpha Company and the Tartarus Unit had passed through the rift, the world flashed white several times before the rift began to shrink in size, most of the tanks and a number of infantrymen attempting to reach it before it could close completely, crying out for help. The portal then snapped shut onto one of the _Maxian _soldiers who had managed to get halfway through the portal before it closed, slicing him cleanly in half vertically, his halved organs spilling onto the ground before the severed part of his body, jets of red shooting from his severed veins and arteries, fell lazily to the charred earth. As Alpha Company fled towards New Alexandria, slowly reclaiming visibility, Alex flagged them down. They rushed into cover beside the Commander just as the northern gates to New Alexandria's outer wall slammed open, allowing a column of friendly tanks to move into the Burned Lands, rapidly advancing towards them.

"Too _fucking _close!" Piermont scowled, his voice regaining the solidity that it should have, and Alex only nodded in response, out of breath.

"Where is the Tartarus Unit?" Cynder asked, and they risked peeking out of cover to find the remaining infantry and the few tanks that managed to get through the portal pulling out towards the distant _Fiernes Curtain, _with the Tartarus Unit themselves nowhere in sight. Alex noticed that the tanks seemed to be plated in an unusual type of metal, and his heart sank as he, for a moment, worried that the _Maxia _had managed to find a way to bypass the immense, encompassing wall of dragonfire.

"Should we hunt them down?" Cynder asked.

Alex shook his head, "Observer shot me up with some kinda mutation suppressor," he scowled, "At least...that's what I think it was. Do the rest of you guys have your abilities?"

They shook their heads, "No," Spyro answered, "At least I don't."

"Damn it..."

"You think they'll return?"

"Probably...once our bodies fully recover from that lovely little mess..."

"What the actual hell just happened?" Cynder asked.

"I don't know, to be honest," Alex replied, surprised to find that his memories of the parallel universe were rapidly starting to fade into a nonsensical jumble of images and thoughts.

"Hey guys..." Cheet replied nervously, "Look at where we came from..."

Reluctantly, they all peeked out of cover, their hearts sinking as they saw an eerie, unnatural shimmer to the air around where the portal used to be, like looking into the air directly above the reach of the tongues of flame in a raging bonfire or the air above a hot grill. Alex also turned to face where the Hermann-Reid remnant had disappeared, seemingly having vanished into thin air. Although a bit unsettled by this revelation, he placed it aside for now, wanting only to get back home and his mutations to be returned. With a sigh, he turned around to face New Alexandria and the approaching column, stepping out and flagging them down.


	31. Chapter XXX: Terrias

_**Chapter XXX**_**:**

**-''Terrias''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**19 February 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0719 Hours**_**-**

Alex climbed out of bed with a groan, being careful not to awaken Cynder sleeping beside him, alerted by a burning sensation on his face and body. She shifted positions, smiling softly in her slumber before settling once again. On reflex, he reached for the glasses resting by his bedside, overjoyed once he realized that he could see clearly without them. Immediately, he stumbled into the bathroom, turning on the light and observing himself in the mirror. Sure enough, most of the scars that had been present on his body before Alpha Company's untimely awakening in the parallel universe had returned, and he released a sigh of relief.

"Took long enough..." he spat, glad to be back in his own body once again.

As he continued to stare at the boy in the mirror, he was shocked by how haggard and old he looked. His dark brown hair was growing out and stringy, almost down to his shoulders now, with several unruly locks obscuring the badly burned and scarred right side of his face. His blue eyes still retained that vicious, soulless coldness, but at the same time, also held to them a sort of weariness and exhaustion. Here he was, eighteen and a half years old, and he looked twice his age. The only part of the aging process he was eager for, growing out a goatee, didn't seem to be very high on his body's priority list. There was not even a touch of hair on his scarred face, and for some reason, this upset him. Then he chuckled at the thought of how Cynder would react to feeling scraggly and scratchy beard hair whenever they kissed.

He grinned, the smile soon dissolving at the sudden thought that it had been quite some time since the alien, female presence that had situated itself in his mind had spoken. In fact, the last time he was even _aware _of the unknown figure, he had chased it away after being tormented by hellish images from his worst nightmares. "I didn't kill her...did I?" he asked himself, deeply concerned for some inexplicable reason. Before the guilt could take hold of him, however, he forcefully removed those thoughts from his mind, straightening his stance and exiting the bathroom once again, quietly closing the door behind him and smiling as he watched his dragonian mate curled into a small ball, sleeping soundly, her back to him. He frowned at the realization that, sooner or later, he would have to tell Sarah about his relationship with the dragoness, and he wondered how he was going to go about doing that.

Finally deciding that it needed to be done, he reluctantly picked up his phone, and after hesitating for several minutes, dialed his girlfriend's phone number.

Although she was surprised and disturbed to hear about his relationship with Cynder, she seemed oddly distant after the admission. Alex had emphasized that his relationship with the dragon had preceded his relationship with Sarah, but this did little to change her apparent feelings on the matter. He did understand why she seemed almost angry, it wasn't just that he was cheating on his girlfriend, he was cheating on her with a _dragon_, little more than a glorified animal. Unsure of where his and Sarah's future lay, the Commander had slipped out and away from his comrades, unnoticed, finding himself at a local bar, convincing the bartender to let him have a drink. At first, he cringed at the bitter taste, the breath knocked out of him by the surprising burn of alcohol going down his throat. After the first drink, however, the burn all but disappeared, and he found it easier to down his drinks, even as his vision began to blur over and his body began to grow warm, his thoughts numbing over. After the fourth or fifth drink, he felt nothing, and was genuinely happy for the lack of disturbing and stressful thoughts that normally surged through his busy mind.

For several hours, he sat by himself at the bar, keeping to himself. Thankfully, although the bar was packed as happy hour arrived, the patrons kept their distance from him. There wasn't a care in the world to him, and he found himself staring off into the distance, enjoying the oblivion and emptiness of his mind as the hours droned on behind him. By the time he started to become aware of his surroundings, twilight had befallen the city outside, and shouts, roars, and catcalls boomed deafeningly to his right at the far end of the room. Irritated that the wild laughter of the drunks clustered together were drowning out the music on the radio-Black Sabbath's _War Pigs_-he stood up with a grunt, wallowing closer to the crowd and mumbling for them to shut up.

As the song began to intensify and the crowd grew even louder, the furious Commander eventually reached his breaking point. Standing up and nearly collapsing, his entire body impaired by his alcohol consumption. Fully drunk, vision spinning and lights blinding, he furiously stomped towards the crowd, shoving his way through and reaching its head. A tall, heavyset, and dirty man stood at one end of a steep drop into an enclosed indentation the floor, resembling a skateboarding half-pipe. The floor of the basin was covered in a light dusting of sand, and a snivy, a Pokemon from the Unova region, was trading blows with a servine, another Pokemon from the same region and the evolved form of the former.

Their green fur matted to their bodies with sweat, chests breathing heavily with exhaustion, the longer their fight continued, the slower and more delayed their attacks became. As the fight slowed, the crowd of drunks became much more violent, calling the two out. The fat man, taking bets from the crowd and seeming to be the ringleader of the blood sport, called out in a drunken slur, "C'mon you two ijits! Keep it moving! Gotta lotta cash hangin' over your heads! Stop being pussies!"

"Hey! Motherfucker!" Alex snarled in a drunken slur, shoving his way to the fat man, "Shut up already! I'm trying to listen to the _friggin'_ radio! And what the hell are you doin' to those Pokemon?"

"Fuck off! None of your business!" the man scowled, shoving Alex back, causing the unsteady Commander to fall into a table and a dining couple's supper. Eyes alighting in a hellish, homicidal blaze, bearing his teeth in a psychopathic grin, Alex once more charged towards the man, preparing to attack. The fat man turned to face the Commander again, only to find himself punched squarely in the jaw by the furious boy. Instantly, the crowd was upon him, brandishing various weapons such as knives, broken bottles, and even pool cues. One biker charged towards him with a knife, Alex merely grabbed his hand, breaking it with a violent, 180 rotation and grabbing the dropped knife in mid-fall. He slammed the biker's arm to the table, jamming the knife through the back of the biker's hand, pinning it to the table. Another man charged towards him with a pool cue. Once more, Alex grabbed his hand, squeezing it until it broke and ripping the cue free, turning it on the rest of the crowd, smashing it against their heads. Brandishing the bloody cue, Alex charged towards the fat man once again, smacking him in the gut. He doubled over with a grunt, answered with a painful smash against the back of the fat man's head. With his foe on the ground, Alex relentlessly beat the man with the cue until it broke.

Those in the crowd who hadn't been injured yet fell back in horror, realizing that all they were doing was succeeding in fueling the drunken soldier's rage. Distracted with another onslaught of attackers, Alex was grabbed across the throat by the fat man and thrown to the ground, knocking the wind again. The Commander struggled to fight back but found that his recovery time was severely affected by his intoxication. Before he had a chance to retaliate, the front of his shirt was forcefully grabbed by the fat man as he was lifted back to his feet. Still in a daze, Alex could only watch, dumbfounded, as he was forcefully shoved over the rope barrier and into the pit. "Terrias," the fat man chuckled coldly, "Do me a little favor, would you?"

"_Vy! Snivy!_" the creature protested, falling back. It's foe, the servine, lay unconscious on the ground. Alex, picking himself up extended a hand towards the creature, who reluctantly stepped forward, allowing the boy to pet it.

"You _IDIOT!_" the fat man roared, "Somebody! Get these sons of bitches out of here!"

From seemingly out of nowhere, two bouncers had arrived, standing to either side of Alex as they forced the boy to a standing position, dragging him out of the pit.

"Hey!" the fat man continued, "Take that stupid fuckin' Pokemon, too!" and he then addressed the creature, "I see you around again, and I will slit your goddamn throat! You understand?"

Alex was forcefully thrown to the sidewalk outside of the bar, knocking the wind out of him and scraping his arms and hands. Blue healing sparks dancing across his body, he righted himself, snarling towards the bouncer who had tossed him out. A few seconds later, the second bouncer arrived, throwing the snivy to the ground beside Alex before returning into the darkness of the bar, slamming the door shut behind him. He looked around, spying the small Pokemon curled up on the ground, crying. Alex stumbled over to it, gently picking it up and cradling it in his arms. The snivy turned to face him with sad eyes, nuzzling his chest affectionately. "Are you okay little buddy?" the Commander asked, gently petting the creature's belly. He took a peak at the genital slit across the bottom of its body, gently spreading the lips to see the red tip of his penis tucked within, it was male.

After several minutes, Alex recoiled at sound of a female voice calling his name.

Almost immediately, the _Nighthawks _surrounded him, Shahvee at their head. Only the female Argonian ran to the Commander's side, helping him into a standing position. He tottered uneasily on his feet, forcing Shahvee to throw his arms around her and lean against her for support. Instantly, all eyes were upon the little critter the Commander held. "Don't ask," Alex replied.

"Alex..." Shahvee began in a worried tone, "Alex, are you all right? Where've you been?"

He only groaned in protest.

"Alpha's been looking for you...is everything okay?"

The door to Suite 1 was thrown open as the _Nighthawks_, with the snivy trotting along at their rear, carted the drunken Alex inside, gently lowering him onto the couch. Around the living room, from stereo speakers dotting the corners, Georges Bizet's _Habanera _was playing. The rest of Alpha Company emerged from their rooms, all casting confused and distrustful glares at the new arrival, who merely ran up to Alex, jumping onto his chest and curling into a ball, falling asleep.

Alex suddenly chuckled, shouting, "Play Verdi, _La donna è mobile_!" and he tried to sing along as _Habanera _cut off and the opera began to play over the surrounding speakers, gently petting the little Pokemon.

"Well..." Cynder sighed, shaking her head, "He's definitely okay..."

"Hey! Cynder!" Alex cackled, "_Sempre un amabile, leggiadro viso, in pianto o in riso, è menzognero_!"

The dragoness then turned to face Shahvee, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," the Argonian replied, "We found him outside of a bar with that...thing..."

"It's a Pokemon," Cheet sighed, casually laying up against Keisha at the foot of the couch upon which Alex lay, "Never seen anything like it personally...but what the hell do I know."

"Bar? What was Alex doing at a bar?" Cynder, ignoring Cheet, asked, worried.

"Not sure," Shahvee replied, "All we know is that he's very badly drunk."

Alex suddenly called out, confirming their suspicions, "Play Mozart, _Sequentia: Dies Irae_!" and at his voice command, with Verdi fading out at the conclusion of the song, the excerpt from Mozart's _Requiem Mass in D Minor _began to play. Once more, he tried to sing along with the chorus, finding slightly more success this time around.

"Damn it, Alex! Turn that shit off!" Piermont spat from the nearby kitchen.

"Aww..." Alex protested, calling, "Play Mozart, _Don Giovanni – Commendatore_!"

Cynder only sighed, "Thanks for keeping an eye out for him."

"No problem," Shahvee smiled, "We'll be down the hall if you need us."

"Roger," and the dragon saw them out, closing the door behind them and sighing in relief that Alex was safe and sound.

That night, while Alex slept soundly on the couch, the snivy awoke from his sleep, quietly slipping out of Alex's arms and down onto the floor, deciding to explore his new home. As he checked out the living room, he stumbled across Alex's backpack, laying haphazardly on the ground, and curious, climbed into it, seeing what was inside. Something sharp stabbed into his belly, causing him to briefly squeak in alarm, and as he scurried out, he stumbled forward several feet before collapsing to the ground, dizzy. Frightening images and thoughts surged through his brain, and he observed, in awe, as the world developed meaning and he discovered sentience. Once his bout of crippling nausea and illness past, the creature picked himself up, looking around him with newfound intelligence.

"My name..." he suddenly said, alarmed to find that he spoke the language of the humans, his knowledge of English flooding into him from the members of Alpha Company, of which he was now aware of, feeling naked and exposed, connected to the mutual mind bank. He turned to face the passed out Commander, and the little Pokemon smiled, "My name...is Terrias."


	32. Chapter XXXI: Aria

_**Chapter XXXI**_**:**

**-''Aria''-**

**-Vermilion, Illinois-**

**-**_**02 March 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0910 Hours**_**-**

The second hour late bell rang throughout the school and Alpha Company found themselves sitting around the gymnasium, waiting for their coach. Alex and Terrias said nothing to each other, maintaining their distance. Occasionally, the snivy, sitting down the line, would look up to glare at the Commander, staring him down.

For several weeks after his mutation, Terrias had kept his newfound sentience a secret. It wasn't until Spyro had stumbled upon him talking to himself in the bathroom did they realize that he was able to communicate with them, and after being confronted by Alex, the Pokemon admitted what had happened, but at the same time had adopted an almost cynical personality towards Alpha Company, the likes of which confused everyone, especially Alex, greatly.

_Yo_, Piermont thought to his rider, _Terrias is kinda an ass, huh? Dunno why you're bothering with him...he clearly don't like it here...why do you even bother keeping the sonuvabitch around?_

_Cause I know I can make a helluva soldier out of him yet...he's got potential._

_Dude, just let him go, why don't ya? He's clearly not happy here, just let him live out on the streets, ain't our problem if he dies of exposure or the cold._

_Nah_, Alex grinned, _I think it's kinda funny that _he_ thinks he's being held prisoner when he's not. He can get up and leave at any time if he wanted to. Besides, with our proximity to the _Curtain_, there ain't no such thing as cold in New Alexandria._

_Fair point...but still not worth it man..._

_Nonsense, _Alex chuckled slyly, _I'll get through to him eventually._

_Asshole, _Piermont scowled.

_Aww, you _know_ you love me, Pierre._

_Yeah, yeah...but I don't like it._

_Why you gotta do this to me, man? Why you gotta hurt my feelings? _Alex thought, feigning sadness.

_Cause I'm a heartbreaker, it's what I do best, _and Piermont severed the conversation.

Once more, Alex cast a look towards Terrias, having said very little since his arrival, who only lowered his own eyes, shaking his head in irritation.

The boys in Alex's class stood around the locker room as Alex and Spyro circled each other, briefly sparring. With their instructor outside, he wouldn't try to break them up, and with Terrias sitting against one corner of the room, arms crossed upon his chest, wearing an old leather jacket that once belonged to the Commander, watching the event, Alex hoped to win some brownie points with him. The session started simple enough, with the duo exchanging blows, only to parry or evade them, and five minutes passed before one of the hits even struck their target, with Alex managing into knock the dragon upside his head.

The crowd of spectators hooted and hollered as the fight went on, genuinely believing that the two friends were actually fighting, and Alex wondered how their instructor couldn't hear them. Perhaps he just didn't care to investigate. Occasionally, the Commander would send a glance back towards Terrias to see if the snivy adopted any change in his expressionless stare, but he remained steadfast. An idea suddenly hatching in his head, Alex decided to resort to taunting his opponent, once more winning the favor of the easily distracted crowd. Spyro was puzzled by this, since it was never part of their sessions in the past.

"C'mon you little faggot!" Alex hissed, wearing an arrogant grin, "Just gonna stand there and fantasize about me or what?"

"What are you doing?" the purple dragon asked, thoroughly confused.

"You just gonna sit there or fight? Don't be a pussy!"

"Is this _really _necessary?"

"C'mon you pansy!" and Alex launched several cheap shots at the dragon, who eventually wised up enough to evade and counter.

"This isn't funny, Alex," the dragon scowled.

"You're right..." the Commander chuckled, "Only thing that's funny about this is your inability to please your girlfriend. Why she has to double up, right?"

"What?" Spyro's eyes narrowed, "Seriously, man? What the hell is wrong with you?"

_Alex..._ Piermont thought to him, sounding worried, _What's going on?_

_Anything from Terrias?_

_Uh...no. Why you being a prick for?_

_Gotta crack him somehow._

_Why are you so obsessed with getting through to him?_

_Reasons._

_What? Cyn not enough for you?_

"Enough of this bullshit, Alex," Spyro scowled, "If you're going to be an asshole for whatever fuckin' reason, damned if I know, I want no part in it..." and he turned to walk away.

"Walks away from a fight, Jesus Christ...thought you were one of the few people who actually had a pair of balls between their legs, guess not, huh? Why the hell did I ever elect you to be my wing-second," and without warning, Alex launched a pyrokinetic attack at the dragon, barely managing to avoid the attack and swiftly turning around to face the Commander, head lowered, eyes narrowed, baring his fangs with a low growl.

"That's it!" the dragon hissed, "I've had enough of this!" and he charged towards Alex, bellowing a challenging roar. Alex merely sidestepped out of the way of the lunge, causing Spyro to hit the ground hard on his side and slide across the floor towards the showers. Alex turned to face the furious dragon, smiling widely upon noticing that the snivy had taken notice and now wore a puzzled but interested expression.

"That all you got? Shit, need to send you back through B.M.T."

Spyro recovered from his miss, taking advantage of his surprising sprinting speed to both dodge another barrage of flames from Alex while also drilling his body into the Commander's back, sending him to the ground in surprise. The dragon rapidly circled the young man, a purple blur zooming before his eyes. Before he even had a chance to retaliate, Spyro had wrapped his tail around Alex's throat, holding his tailblade before Alex's eyes. "Go on!" he hissed through clenched teeth, "Say one more thing! I dare you! Piss me off!"

"Is that one of your little talons digging into my back," Alex choked, "Or are you just happy to see me?"

Spyro, with a furious roar, wrapped his tail around Alex's throat, suffocating him to euphoria before effortlessly throwing the young man aside. Alex, in a daze, hit the ground painfully, sliding across and into Terrias' feet. Now angry, Alex's taunts became a lot more barbed and violent, and he easily evaded and countered against Spyro's attacks with his superior speed and strength, now pushed to its limits. He wasn't playing any longer. As they exchanged blows and elemental attacks, their fight eventually spilled out into the doorway of the locker room. While Alex picked himself up off the ground, Spyro swiped his feet from beneath them, using his head to knock Alex into the air before the dragon leaped up, using his wings to speed forward into the Commander's chest, sending him flying backwards and into the gymnasium.

Before he could even recover from the attack, Spyro had tackled him to the ground, relentlessly slashing the alpha mutant with his sharp claws. Shielding his face against the flurry of attacks, Alex managed to land a punch in Spyro's muzzle, temporarily stunning the small beast and giving the Commander the opportunity to kick the dragon off of him. He quickly picked himself up, narrowly missing another furious ram from the dragon. Alex spun around to face Spyro again, the dragon's horns were lowered, and he snorted in anger, puffs of smoke shooting from his nostrils. The purple dragon charged towards Alex like a bull, Alex used his pyrokinesis to create a tongue of flame he used to propel himself into the air and to the side of the dragon's charge, at the same time, the stripe of fire came into contact with Spyro with explosive results, knocking the dragon several feet to the side and onto his back. He briefly flailed violently and spastically to right himself before bellowing a ball of fire in Alex's direction. With smooth reflexes, Alex managed to deflect the orb of fire with his pyrokinesis, turning it back onto the dragon. Although he dodged the counter, the fireball exploded upon contact with the ground, the impact throwing Spyro around once again.

From somewhere through the smoke, they could hear Cynder cry out, "What the _hell _is going on!?"

The two enraged mutants ignored her, charging towards each other before a powerful, deep, booming voice rang throughout the air, "_ENOUGH!_"

With eerie, unnatural agility, Terrias appeared between the two mutants, effortlessly grabbing Spyro by the wing and tossing him out of the sky and into the ground, knocking him into the shocked Cynder. Alex, with a vicious snarl, charged towards the incapacitated dragon, taking advantage of the moment before, with swift, uncanny ease, Terrias clocked him in the stomach to daze him, grabbing Alex's weakly thrown punch, twisting his hand around and effortlessly flipping him onto the ground, pinning him in place by the throat. Alex struggled to relieve Terrias' superior grip but failed, his blows weakly deflecting off of the snivy's furry body. Finally, he calmed, and Terrias lifted the Commander off the ground by the throat, throwing him across the gym and onto the floor, the beast not even breaking a sweat.

"Jesus Christ, you two are _both _immature children."

"He speaks!" Piermont laughed, "And goddamn he kicked their asses hard! Even _big bad _Ali's!"

Terrias turned menacingly towards the human-form dragon, "And you can kindly _shut up_!"

"Isn't my fault that Alex is an asshole!" Spyro managed, sounding on the verge of tears through his fury. Cynder sat by his side, gently shushing him and attempting to console him. All eyes were on Alex, who only wore an arrogant smirk, crossing his arms and popping his neck. Cynder hugged Spyro, attempting to calm him down, but the dragon only ripped free from her grasp, taking a few steps back, "I didn't do _anything _to you! I didn't fuckin' deserve that!"

"Spyro, calm down!" Coach Forks ordered.

"You know, why the _fuck _do I even bother staying around here sometimes. I should have stayed back in the Realms...I _would _have if I would've known that you were such a fucking prick!" and he stormed away, leaving the gym with their instructor chasing him down.

"What the hell was that all about?" Cynder asked, glaring at her human mate.

Alex shrugged, "I dunno, it felt good...it felt..._right_."

"You're an ass!" Cynder snarled.

"Oh, honey," Alex chuckled, "I've heard _so _much worse."

Cynder only shook her head in disappointment, chasing after Spyro.

"Yo, Terrias," Piermont chuckled, wearing an arrogant smile, "Do us all a favor, rough up Alex a little bit more, huh? Doesn't look like he got the message!"

"With pleasure," the snivy responded, cheaply punching Alex in the gut before roundhouse kicking him to the floor once again. Straightening the collar of his jacket, he took a seat on the benches once, regaining his earlier composure, this time crossing his legs as well as his arms and leaning back.

"Boy does it get me hard watching old _Ali _get his ass kicked for once," Piermont chuckled, "Shit...what a sight for sore eyes."

"I couldn't agree more, Piermont," Terrias replied with a slight nod.

"Please, call me Pierre."

With a groan, Alex picked himself up, Piermont reaching out to him, saying, _Well, looks like your plan worked after all! Though it kinda backfired up _your _ass...I've got a new best friend! Thanks, pal!_

That night, Alex sat out upon his balcony, staring towards the Burned Lands, allowing his mind to unwind as he did every day anymore. He was suddenly aware of the door to his balcony, and a cold voice saying, "We need to talk."

With a sigh, the Commander turned to face Terrias approaching him, wearing that same emotionless expression, arms crossed at his chest. Saying nothing, Alex once more returned his attention to the _Fiernes Curtain_.

Terrias walked up to him, standing beside him, joining him in his stare, "I have the strangest feeling that all that crap you pulled with Spyro earlier was to get my attention. You've been my damn stalker since I came down here, what's it all about? Quite frankly, if you're gonna keep acting that way, we might as well skip the formalities and jump right to the fun time."

Alex shrugged, "Guess I'm just looking for a friend."

"Well, you sure have a strange way of going about that objective."

"About that," Alex chuckled, "Forming friendships isn't really my forte."

"Alpha Company seems to like you."

Alex shrugged again, "Sometime it just...happens."

"Aww, so they weren't subjected to your longing lover's stare? I feel so special!" and silence fell between them for several moments before Terrias asked, "Why are you trying to make friends with me anyway? From my experience, usually if someone tries to go that route, they want something else. I've lost my home, my family, I've got nothing to lose, so why are you still trying?"

"Terrias, do you believe in second chances?"

It was his turn to shrug, "I guess...why?"

"You and me...we're not so different. We have similar origins, and I think we would be able to get along fairly well. I don't want anything from you...just a chance to hang out every once in awhile."

"Similar?" Terrias smirked, "Yeah, and how are you so sure about that."

"Because I was taken from my family as a kid, forced to fight as a soldier. I was abused, mistreated, belittled relentlessly. Then I found friendship, and I was allowed to start to recover. We're a lot alike you and I...sorry for thinking we could be friends."

The snivy chuckled to himself before finally saying, "If you want to be my friend...you better learn how to fight. Quite frankly, I'm getting a little tired of kicking your ass..." and he turned to head back inside, "Also...there are other ways to approach people rather than making your second-in-command start to cry like a little hatchling."

"He needed a little toughening," Alex grinned, and he turned to spy Terrias struggling to hold back a grin of his own.

"Yeah, perhaps...still, there are better ways of doing that, although I commend you on what you _did _try and accomplish. Pissing off a dragon...that takes a lotta balls."

"You seen how short-tempered Pierre is? I've picked up a few things here and there."

"Fair enough...goodnight, Alex."

"Night, Terrias."

After Terrias had left, Alex decided to go for a walk in Club Camelot's yard, happening upon Cynder leaving the double doors of the building's entrance. "Yo!" he called, jogging up to her, "Cyn!"

She turned to face him, sighing before turning back around and strolling to an isolated corner of the lawn, crouching to relieve herself. She looked up to face Alex, rolling her eyes, "What do you want, Alex?"

"You still pissed about earlier?"

The glare she cast him gave him a clear answer.

"Listen...I'm sorry about that but...well it's a funny story actually..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Pierre already told me. So, have you actually _tried _talking to Terrias directly? Insulting and embarrassing Spyro to get his attention is really low, even for you," the stream finally receding, she righted herself, shaking her rear before strolling back to Club Camelot, gently sliding her ice-cold, almost metallic, tailblade across his arm, "After all...there are _plenty _of things that I can say to destroy you. I just choose not to. Remember that next time you decide to treat Spyro like that. I may love you, Alex, but I love Spyro, too, and I'm not afraid to return the favor if he's threatened," and she finished this statement by baring her teeth and swiftly sliding the sharp end of her blade against his arm, breaking the skin. Alex hissed in response, watching as blue healing sparks danced across the wound, closing it.

"Listen, Cyn...I'm sorry...I know it was probably stupid of me..."

"It _was _stupid of you," she spat, entering the busy lobby of Club Camelot, "And you don't need to apologize to me...you need to apologize to Spyro."

In the elevator together, Alex continued, "C'mon...is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

"Listen, Alex...I know what you're trying to pull. You're not _actually _sorry, you're looking for a mate."

"Not true."

"Bullshit," and she fell silent once again.

Alex lowered to a sitting position, "C'mon, Cyn...I'm sorry, a'ight? I know that what I did was stupid and selfish...but I really am sorry...forgive me?"

She glared at him once again before, with a scoff, rolling her eyes, "Jesus...you're worse than a fucking puppy."

He kissed her then, much to her surprise. She flinched from the action, eyes narrowing in disgust before rapidly swiping at his face with her razor-sharp claws, "I'm not a whore, Alex! Your little sweet talk isn't gonna turn me on, it's not gonna make me forgive you for the shit that you pulled. Apologize to Spyro and actually _mean _it, then we'll see what happens," the doors opened as the she-dragon stormed out, turning to face him, "If you're looking for something to mount, go next door and talk to Shahvee, or, I dunno, how about pay your girlfriend a visit, huh? Disgusting!" and she stormed into Suite 1, slamming the door shut behind her. Alex rubbed his cheek, looking at his hand to see five thin stripes of red staining his palm.

"Well _that _was interesting..." a voice spoke, causing Alex to stiffen. He turned to find Terrias standing in the hall, "Bravo!"

"You're quite the snarker aren't you?"

The snivy shrugged, "Guess you could say so."

Alex sighed, walking over to him and standing beside him, "You have girl problems like that?"

He shook his head, "Nope...don't have a mate. Had a female friend but..." he shrugged, "She's still with Bob," and Alex noticed that he was nervously stroking a small stone with a leaf-shaped designed carved into it dangling from a string upon his neck.

"Where does he live?"

"Residential District, near the entrance to the Manufacturing District, he is one twisted, fucked up son of a bitch, too. He doesn't have a wife, so when he's feeling a little...needy...he takes one of our few females. He's just about as much of a scalie as you are, Alex. Thankfully, he didn't take my Aria, though...doesn't like her for some reason."

"Aria?"

"Yeah...my female friend."

"When does he work?"

"During the day...why?"

Alex fell silent for several moments before finally saying, "Just curious...anyway, I'm going to bed."

"Yep, goodnight."

"Goodnight...don't stay up _too_ late."

Alex, with a grunt, entered Suite 1, seeing everyone in Alpha Company, minus Spyro and Cynder, sitting around the living room, engaging in a system-linked multiplayer tournament on _Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2_ with three Xbox 360 consoles.

"What happened to your face?" Piermont chuckled, drinking from a can of _Coca Cola_, "Piss Cyn off?"

Alex only grunted, the wound across his cheek healing, he didn't even spare them a passing glance as he headed down the western hall, towards the last room on the right, his room. Letting himself inside, he closed the door behind him, undressing and climbing into bed, calling, "Play Bowie, _Moonage Daydream_..."

Alex awoke early the next morning from a vivid nightmare in a cold sweat. Once more, he had found himself dreaming of past battles. The nightmare that had tormented him this time was a reliving of the attack on Champaign, Illinois and the fountain where only he and Spyro had managed to crawl away from the sea of bodies. He gingerly touched the gruesome burn scars across the left side of his face, wincing. It didn't hurt nearly as bad as it used to, and he could tell that his mutations were slowly healing them, but a dull ache still shot through his face if he applied too much pressure to the wounds.

He climbed out of bed, quietly exiting his room into the darkened Suite 1, heading towards the niche just off the living room that held the kitchen to get a drink. He found Spyro and Cynder there, whispering to each other, and upon his arrival, they both fell silent. Cynder glared at him menacingly, Spyro only looked away, appearing hurt. He nodded towards the she-dragon, dismissing her before sitting down on a barstool across from the island counter, "Spy..."

"What the hell do you want, Alex?" the dragon sighed.

"Listen...about yesterday...I'm sorry."

He shrugged, "I just...I don't understand, man. I didn't do anything to you, what was the point in that?"

"Me being stupid, and an asshole...trying to impress Terrias."

"How would that have done anything? Listen...I know I may be flawed but...that really hurt."

"I saw an opportunity and I seized the moment."

"Yeah? Well I hoped you succeeded in winning a friend...because you just lost one," and Spyro stood up to go before Alex called him down, "I'm sorry."

Spyro only sighed, shaking his head, "Goodnight, Alex..." before heading back to his room.

As the sky began to brighten to morning, Alex quietly slipped into Terrias' room, at the far end of the eastern hall. "Hey, wake up..." he whispered, gently shaking the snivy awake. The creature shot up with a start, out of breath, blinking around before groaning, asking, "What? What do you want?"

"Get dressed..."

"What? Why?"

"C'mon, we need to go before the others wake up, let's move it."

With a grunt, Terrias climbed out of bed and tossing on his jacket, he nodded towards the Commander, "I hope you have a good reason for this...what time is it anyway?"

"Just trust me, brother."

They quietly slipped out of Suite 1 and into the penthouse floor of Club Camelot's rotunda. The faint buzzing of the dimmed fluorescent tube lights encircling the stained glass dome, depicting a dragon attacking a distant castle village at twilight, were the only noise in the otherwise quiet military club. They quietly slipped across the white ceramic tile floors, entering the glass elevator and heading down to ground level. From here, they passed through the short, oak paneled, red carpeted hall between the rotunda and the double French doors that opened out into the expansive lobby. The lobby itself, at nearly fifty feet tall, oak paneled with wood floors, a swimming pool sunken into the center of the floor, and long, vertical, slit windows high up on the walls was empty and silent. Unlike the rotunda, whose lights dimmed at 2200 hours and brightened at 0600, the lobby lights stayed on full power constantly. They slipped past _Cisco's Bar &amp; Grill _and the indoor/outdoor swimming pool at the back of the room, opposite the front entrance, they quietly sneaked past the opening leading into the stone-walled atrium where visiting dragons of Beta Company, the Terminator Militia's dragonrider division, were still sleeping soundly beneath the brightening skies through the atrium's entirely glass ceiling.

Exiting the double doors outside, racing down the stone steps of the Victorian-style mansion's entrance, guarded by two stone sphinxes, they raced across the hedgerow-lined brick path, broken into a circular path in the middle, around an stone, three-basin fountain with an obsidian statue of a fighting dragon spewing the fountain's water from its mouth, and towards the ornate, wrought iron gates breaking up the ten foot tall, stone perimeter walls. The graveyard shift guardsman saluted the Commander, opening the gates and allowing the duo to leave the perimeter, stepping onto the asphalt, palm-tree lined road connecting the military district to the east and the residential district to the west. "Dammit, Alex, where are we going?"

Now in the residential district, near the city's zoo, Alex flagged down a taxi, nodding towards Terrias, "Where's your old owner live again?"

In an isolated corner of Emerald Park, at the edge of the residential district, adjacent to the manufacturing district to the west, Alex and Terrias remained in place, spying on the movements in and around the house of Terrias' old owner, directly across from the park. The man left to the manufacturing district at 0730 hours, with Terrias supplying the Commander with other information on the man's schedule and habits. "He always comes home to eat at 12 o'clock," the snivy began, "So we have four hours to do...whatever it is you're planning. Why are we here, Alex?"

"Gonna break your girlfriend out."

"Aria?" Terrias stiffened, "We're...going to save her?"

Alex nodded, "If you're gonna stay here with us, I'll be damned if we're leaving her with this son of a bitch."

"You don't have to do this..."

"Well I'm going to..._we're _going to."

"Th...thank you."

Alex grinned, "Hey, don't mention it, buddy," and checking his watch, "A'ight...let's get a move on."

They casually strolled across the empty park, still in curfew before racing across the street, diving into cover behind some shrubbery in the man's garden.

"All right...curfew let's out at 0800...and we're gonna get busy when it hits...so let's try and make this quick, huh? Where does he keep his prisoners?"

"In the basement..."

"All right...let's go, hurry!"

They raced towards the tall, wood fence opening out into the backyard, and taking another look around, Alex quickly scampered over, touching down on the other side, Terrias dropping down beside him. They quickly made their way across the yard, Alex stiffening once he noticed two big, empty dog bowls near the back door, "He has dogs?"

"Shit...I forgot about them...we'll just need to be careful not to alert them...odds are they're probably sleeping in the living room, that's where they usually do."

"You go in there then, you know where she is. Go in there, free her, I'll stay here and keep watch."

"Hell no, those dogs hate us...he used to taunt us with them..."

"For fuck's sake..." Alex sighed, "Great...we'll figure out something."

Crouching to the ground, the Commander fished out a lockpicking kit, immediately getting to work on the door. Once they both heard the audible click signaling the door was unlocked, the Commander quietly opened the door, slipping into the dirty kitchen beyond. "Thankfully, he keeps a tranquilizer rifle on display in the living room, if I can get my hands on it, we can take care of the dogs," Terrias whispered.

Alex quickly shushed the snivy, crouching to the ground and placing a hand to the floor, closing his eyes. He expanded his mind throughout the building, watching as it was mapped out in white chalk lines across his black vision, pulsating like a radar to identify living beings, signified by pulsing white orbs taking on a rough shape of their bodies. "Looks like we lucked out," Alex sighed, opening his eyes and standing upright again, "The dogs are in his bedroom, door seems closed."

"How the hell do you know _that_?"

Alex chuckled, tapping his temple, "Magic powers."

"How would one go about _getting _said powers?"

"Join us, and I'll mutate you."

Terrias shrugged, "Fair enough."

They made their way into the basement where the man kept all of his battlers locked up in cells. The place reeked of urine and mold, and Terrias quickly made his way through the dungeon, searching around for Aria's cell. "There's nobody here..." Alex commented, noticing the empty cells.

"He keeps the males with him at all times. The females are kept here at all hours...basically nothing more than sex dolls for him and breeding farms for the males."

They entered the room together, with Alex asking, "Which one is Aria?"

"There she is..." the snivy replied sadly, pointing towards the cell.

Alex quickly set to work on picking the cell's lock, and throwing open the doors, he nodded towards Terrias, "All right, go get her."

The snivy ran into the cell's interior, calling, "Aria, it's me, Terrias! We're here to get you out."

Aria, a servine, an evolutionary form of snivy, only cast him a strange look, as if recognizing who he was but unable to understand him.

"C'mon, Aria! Let's go! Hurry!"

Silence.

"What's wrong?"

"Not sure..." Alex replied.

Suddenly, Terrias spoke up, "Hey...let me try something..." and he raced over to the Commander, "Can you temporarily take away my mutations?"

"I...well yeah, I do keep a supply of anti-mutagen on hand in case it doesn't react well with someone...why?"

Terrias sighed, "Hit me with it...if I...devolve...she might be able to understand me."

"Are you sure, man?"

Terrias nodded, "Yes, now please, let's hurry."

Alex did as Terrias suggested, and once the snivy recovered from the anti-mutation process, which seemed somewhat painful, he cast the Commander a determined look before slipping into the cell, communicating with the female Pokemon in his native tongue. She seemed happy at his arrival, having returned for her, and after a brief conversation that Alex could not understand, Terrias took the servine's hand and gently guided her out of the cell, over to Alex.

He mutated the snivy again who groaned in pain as his powers returned to him.

"Do you want me to mutate Aria, too?"

"No..." Terrias replied, voice weak, "Not...not yet...let's wait until we get back home first..." and he smiled towards his companion, nuzzling her lightly.


	33. Chapter XXXII: Resurrection

_**Chapter XXXII**_**:**

**-''Resurrection''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**18 March 2012**_**-**

**-**_**2319 Hours**_**-**

Terrias stood alone in the shower of the room he shared with Aria, enjoying the feel of the hot water rolling down his heavily scarred back and body. Never before, prior to joining the Terminators, had he been exposed to a hot shower. In fact, they were hardly allowed to bathe at his old home, and when they were, it was nothing more than a small tub of cold water that everyone took turns using. He also couldn't believe that he had the privacy of an entire room to himself, yes he shared it with Aria, but it was still much better than sharing a single cell with a dozen different males, all older, more aggressive, and more experience than he. Upon their return to Club Camelot, Alex had apologized that Aria was going to have to room up with Terrias due to lack of space in the already cramped Suite 1, but personally, Terrias didn't mind. In fact, he preferred sharing a room with the girl, his childhood friend, then the both of them staying separate from one another.

He did begin noticing some things, however. At his old home, he had lived with the females as a 'secret' child. Eventually, their owner found out, but he was allowed to continue living with the females until he reached a certain age, where, upon realizing that he was reaching sexual maturity, he was separated from his old friend and forced to room with the other males, where he wasn't kindly received and he was badly beaten numerous times. It had been many years since he was allowed to sleep in the same area as Aria. Occasionally, especially during mating season, the males were allowed to mingle with the females, and he was allowed to see Aria, but they were never allowed to stay alone together, or even sleep within proximity to one another.

Now that they were free and were able to do whatever they desired, he began to notice some things that he originally didn't. For example, Aria would often go through periods of aggression at times, and he was well aware of a constant odor that surrounded her, signifying that she was a mature and fertile female. He had started to keep track of dates and times now as well, and he began to wonder if they were entering their mating season, she was definitely acting like the other females did when they went into heat, but he wasn't exactly sure. This wasn't all he was going through either, he was also beginning to go through some very strange changes himself, often his mind was plagued with violent thoughts, mingling with lustful ones, and he was almost in a constant state of heightened sensitivity to odors and even tastes. He would often find dirty thoughts about Aria plaguing both his waking and sleeping mind, and he was filled with a lustful desire to claim her as a mate, despite their long history and their relationship, akin to brother and sister. Thankfully, the water rushing down his back relieved these queer sensations, for now anyway.

Suddenly, however, he was aware of a faint sound, the quiet latching of a door, and Aria's natural, musky odor filled his nostrils, alerting him to her presence. "Mind if we talk for a little bit?" she asked in a faint voice, "There's some things I want to say."

"Sure," he responded, "Come on in, water's wonderful."

He stepped aside, allowing his old friend to shyly climb into the water with him, "Hard to believe that after all these years...this is where we end up, huh Tare-Tare?"

He chuckled at the pet name she had for him, something she gave him many years earlier, when she was like a big sister, raising the young and frightened Terrias.

"Here we thought we were going to die in that hellhole..." Aria sighed, "Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine we would find ourselves here, safe from harm."

"I agree," he replied, "And Alpha Company has done so well to make us feel at home...like a family...certainly something I'm not used to. We have an entire bedroom, Aria, and a hot shower, just like our owner had. I think we'll do fine here, I can sense it."

She nodded and he offered to bathe her, which she agreed to. As he washed her smooth back, not nearly as scarred as his, she continued, "Listen...I wanted to tell you some things..."

"Sure, anything."

"When he came home...and he told me that you had died...I was so worried, so afraid. I've lost everyone I cared about...all we had was each other and I was terrified that I had lost you, too. Now that I see that you're alive and healthy...that you're safe...that we're _both _safe...I can't even begin to express how happy I am," she hugged him, "I missed you, Tare-Tare..."

"I missed you, too, Aria."

"I _know _that things will get better now...and I'm glad that, after all those years, we both finally get some better treatment...I really was worried that you would die in there...I wasn't really worried too much about myself but...you were so young and innocent...then when your mother died...when _our _mother died...you were so sad, and I was so worried for you. I felt so terrible, and I tried to find a way to cheer you up but..." she shook her head, "I just didn't know how...that's why I tried to take care of you, to be like she was...she was so kind and caring and..."

"You did a great job, Aria..." he chuckled, "You know, you are my best friend...and even though it did hurt when mom died...I was so glad when you took up the responsibility and you took care of me. You were only a few months older than me, but you still took care of me, and you raised me. Were it not for you, I probably would have died in there."

She smiled towards him, "I tried, Tare-Tare...I really did."

"You did a good job, thank you..." and he continued bathing her as silence fell between them, finally, popping his muscles, he asked, "Now, there's some things I want to talk about with you, too...a request."

"Sure, anything."

"Now, this may be kind of a funny question...but have you ever kinda thought about our relationship and where we are?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, jut hear me out for a sec, okay?"

"Of course."

Standing behind her, he hugged her, placing his arm upon her shoulder, "I know how our past has been, how close we've been...and we've been friends for a long time. So what do you say we advance to the next stage?"

"Huh? What are you talking about, Tare-Tare?"

"I want you to be my mate...I want _us _to be mates...to start a family together."

This caused the female to gasp in visible surprise, and she turned to face him, in shock and blushing fiercely, "But...um...Tare-Tare...isn't it a little...you know...strange? We're best friends...we're practically siblings and I..." he silenced her by gently stroking down her body and belly, brushing one three-fingered hand across her cloaca and diving into its warm, rough, and moist depths, gently stroking it and occasionally rubbing just inside. The female's body suddenly warmed considerably, and she stiffened, trembling and stuttering her words, "T-T-Terrias...I-I..." and she released a startled, but not necessarily unpleasant sigh.

"We've known each other for a long time...we've been best friends for many years...and we were always there to help each other...now I...I need help. I've had...thoughts...that aren't me...and I've been thinking...can you help me?"

She moaned softly as the muscles of her cloaca oddly contracted against his intruding fingers, and a strange, sticky fluid oozed out from her, filling the air with a sweet, wild, but not unpleasant musk, "I...I don't know..."

"Do you remember all those years ago...when you caught me after I woke up aroused and I was so frightened and embarrassed...but then you told me not to worry, and you showed yourself to me as long as I showed myself to you...you let me touch you and we bonded in a way that we never had before..."

She rapidly nodded, shivering, her breathing short and rapid as her body relaxed more to his intrusion, beginning to lubricate even more and growing ever warmer.

"Can we do it again? Only this time...for real?"

When she didn't respond for several moments, Terrias pulled away from her, turning away, apologizing for his sudden and uncomfortable approach. He felt guilty and embarrassed, and he felt dirty that he had almost let his emotions get the best of him. Aria continued to say nothing, only stare at him with a peculiar gaze, something he had only seen during times when they were alone and by themselves, basking in each others presence.

"I'm sorry..." he said, "I...I don't know what came over me...please...forgive me."

Suddenly, she was on him once again, grabbing his hand and slipping back inside of her once more, lightly grinding against him, her body was very hot and her cloaca was incredibly damp to the touch, slightly open, and swollen, "Don't stop, please..."

"But I thought.."

Finally, with a sigh, she turned to face her old friend before kissing him powerfully, smacking their heads together, and pressing her body against him, hard enough that he could feel her milking at him. She nuzzled him affectionately, hugging him tightly and clinging onto him, like she had done so many times before, only this time, there was something different about the way she acted, she desired the closeness, the intimacy..it _was _time that they finally allowed their already close friendship to evolve and blossom into something else, "Yes, yes please...I want it, too."

The next day, Alex took Terrias with him to shop for more groceries. As they strolled down the middle of the street in the busy city, heading towards one of the city's malls, Alex suddenly said, breaking their random conversations, "So...had a little fun with Aria last night, didya?"

Terrias stiffened, "How'd you know?"

The Commander chuckled, hand in his pocket, "Hell I'm not mad, kinda proud actually, glad you two are happy together."

"How'd you find out?" Terrias asked again.

Alex shrugged, "Well, it's not hard, the mutation serum all but forbids privacy. We can exchange, without warning and wanting to half the time, the most extreme of emotions over the mutual mind bank...that is the telepathic chatroom were' all plugged into. Lusty, fury, depression, and agony...we call it the 'Pain Puppet Principle". Fun thing about the serum, that when _one _of us experiences intense emotions, whether one of us gets shot, or something, by running those emotions through the mutual mind bank, you're basically diluting it through everyone. Sounds confusing, but it's basically like this: we all share the same amount of pain when someone is hurt, so that it's less painful for the person who _got _hurt in the first place."

"So how does this do anything about what Aria and I did last night?"

"Well..._all _extreme emotions run through the mind bank...including sexual pleasure and lust. Unfortunately, that means that it's diluted, although only slightly, across everyone plugged in, so an orgasm is much more powerful if you're disconnected than if you're tapped in. There are ways to bypass the bleed-over of certain emotions, but they can be kinda difficult to grasp, and all but impossible if nobody teaches you."

"Which means...?"

"Which means that you and Aria _suck _at controlling the radiation of sexual pleasure between you two, and because of that, every single one of us could feel your little session. I tried to capture as much as I could to avoid the others finding out but...well you get the point. Nothing to be embarrassed about, we've all had to go through that, even me."

"That must be really fucking awkward for you guys."

Alex shrugged, "You get used to it over time. You also learn to...um...turn the other cheek when a couple that's new to the mutation serum decides to consummate their relationship. But yeah, if you came here looking for privacy, the Terminator Militia is most definitely _not _the place for you. There's no such thing as privacy, and there's no such thing as secrets, in Alpha Company."

"Well, no offense, but I don't really want anyone knowing when I'm getting laid or beating it..."

"Sorta figured."

"So...can you teach us this trick to conceal the pleasure from everyone?"

Alex nodded, "Sure, it's not hard once you figure it out...unfortunately, that means that you have to consciously monitor the mind bank when you're having sex...which can kinda be a killjoy sometimes, cause then you're distracted and you can't concentrate solely on your lover. But..." and Alex sighed, "Nobody else wants to feel you and your girl getting laid, so sometimes you have to compromise...as much as it sucks some pretty big balls."

As they entered the store, Terrias asked, "Tell me...do you _always _query into the sex lives of your brothers-in-arms? Or am I a special case."

Alex chuckled, "Nah, but I _do _like embarrassing my friends every once in awhile."

After taking care of the groceries, they headed across the mall strip to a clothing store, with Terrias turning to face the Commander and asking, "Now what the hell are we doing _here_?"

Alex shrugged, "Figured you'd want to ditch that old jacket."

"I don't have any money, Alex."

"Don't worry brother, I'm buying..." and he picked out a knee-length trench coat, hanging it to the snivy, "Put this on, let's see how you look."

Terrias quickly put on the coat, turning to face the Commander and asking, "So...how do I look?"

He chuckled, "Positively sexy, brother..." and he casually smacked Terrias on the back, "You look pretty good...how's it feel?"

Terrias shrugged, "Well it's comfortable at least..." and they stopped in place, turning to face each other as Alex observed the creature.

"You know what you need?"

"What?"

"You need a goddamn shotgun. Put a SPAS-12 with that coat and you will be the baddest ass in all of Alpha Co."

"This...really isn't necessary, Alex..."

"Nonsense! Need to find a niche for you in Alpha..." he then suddenly sighed, saying in a somber tone, "Listen, Terrias...there's not much I can do to train you...you're already a much better fighter than I can ever hope to be."

"I...guess...I'm sure there's _something _we can do..."

Alex shook his head, "I'll work with you on how to use a sword but...you can already do much more than I can, Terrias, we'll probably put you through the Gauntlet in the coming weeks."

"The Gauntlet?"

Alex nodded, "The final stage in our B.M.T. Once you're basic training is complete, you're put through the Gauntlet, which is basically this gigantic virtual reality simulator thing...it's kinda complicated to explain. Anyway, if you can pass the Gauntlet beneath the time limit, and you're already in Alpha Company before you go for it, you're eligible for the High Command. I'm going to be honest with you, man...when you get there, I _really _want you to try and beat it. It's hard...but goddammit, man...you are the best soldier I've ever had, just from what I've seen."

"I haven't even seen combat yet..."

"Yeah, but just how you think, how you act...how you strategize I _want _you in the High Command."

"Then make me High Command, simple enough, right?"

The Commander shook his head, "Negative...I can't make you High Command unless you beat the Gauntlet, that's the rules. When you get there, please, _please _try to beat it beneath the time limit."

"I can try."

"Awesome...like I said, to see you by my side in the High Command would be pretty fucking amazing..." then he nodded towards the Pokemon, "Now, there's one more thing we gotta do before we go back home..."

Alex led Terrias to the military district and towards the massive, barn-like structure where Martaanean dragons were housed until they were bonded with riders. Leading him inside, Terrias asked, "So...what are we doing now?"

"How old are you?" the male receptionist suddenly asked, nodding towards the duo.

"He's..." then Alex fell silent, "Actually, how old _are _you Terrias?"

"Sixteen," he replied, then, "Alex...what are we doing here?"

"Commander, you know where to take him, right?" the receptionist replied.

Alex nodded, "Rog..." and he turned to face Terrias, "All right, bud...let's go."

The Commander led him throughout the large building towards the section where the sixteen year old dragons were kept. A few young soldiers walked around, awaiting to impress upon a dragon and paying the duo not heed.

"Alex...where are we?"

They finally stopped at the entrance to the room, with Alex nodding towards the snivy, "All right, brother, go on in."

"What do I do? What is this place?"

"You'll know when you see it," he replied, nodding impatiently, "Go."

With a sigh, Terrias finally complied, taking one final, confused glance towards the Commander before entering the room, walking back and forth through the room that housed all the unbonded dragons currently in the city as of this period of rotation. Unsure of what to do, Terrias walked in circles around the room, trying to figure out what he was here for. He was uncomfortably aware of hundreds of dragons staring at him, trying to find their destined riders.

"Damn it, Alex," he spat, "This doesn't make any..." then he suddenly fell silent, stiffening in place. Something felt different about where he stood. He looked around, trying to figure out why he felt compelled to stop here, and that's when he found his attention turned to one stall across the room where a single forest dragon slept soundly. Cocking his head to the side, Terrias approached the stall, extending a hand, "Hey...are you awake?"

The dragon's emerald eyes snapped open, and yawning, he looked up at his visitor, saying, "Hi...?"

"Long time no see!" Alex laughed, suddenly appearing behind Terrias and startling both him and the dragon, "What was your name again?"

"Who are you?" the dragon asked, as confused as Terrias.

"Remember me? You helped Piermont and I set up the _Fiernes Curtain_, in fact...if I remember correctly, you _coined _the name."

"Oh!" the dragon replied, eyes lighting up, "I remember now! It has been a long time!"

"What's your name?" Terrias asked, interrupting the two.

The dragon nodded towards him, "My name is Arian...what's yours?"

"Terrias..." he responded, then, unable to control himself, the Pokemon felt compelled to extend his hand forward. Arian once more cocked his head to the side before he succumbed to his own compulsion, placing his head against the palm of Terrias' right hand. Instantly, the snivy felt his mind being raped by a flood of memories that didn't belong to him, and he was horrified to find that he was exchanging thoughts and memories with the dragon that had attracted his attention. Within seconds, he knew the entire dragon's history, and likewise did Arian know his, and with a pained shout, both the dragon and his newly chosen rider fell back from one another. A symbol glowed like a fresh brand upon the dragon's forehead. On the left side of the symbol, as if one was facing it, was a mark resembling a lowercase 'D', while on the right side was a mark resembling a lowercase 'B'. connecting the two at the base was what resembled an underscore.

Terrias, laying down on the ground, breathing heavily and staring at his right palm, watched in awe and surprise as a perfect reflection of the mark now glowed as a brilliant, gold scar on his hand.

"What the hell was _that_ all about?" the snivy hissed, sounding hurt.

"Congratulations," Alex chuckled, "You have completed the Choosing."

"The what?"

"When a dragon and a rider forge an unbreakable bond for life...you are now a dragonrider. Piermont and I were bonded the same way."

Terrias flexed his palm where the glow in his bonding scar had finally died down, "That really _fucking _hurt..." and he suddenly asked Arian, "Are you okay?"

The young dragon nodded, "I'm sorry...I don't know what came over me..."

"That's quite all right," Alex replied, "That was supposed to happen...now, you two get to know each other, I'll go fetch the paperwork," and he left the two alone.

With Arian in tow, Alex and Terrias returned to Club Camelot, where they found Alpha Company gathered around playing video games in Suite 1's living room. Upon their entry, Aria flashed her mate a warm smile, which Terrias returned. Not even turning to face them, Piermont, who was nearly close to throwing a tantrum over constantly being killed, said, "So, Terrias is now a certified dragonrider, huh?"

"Yes..." the snivy replied, gently petting his beast.

"Welcome to the club, bud..." and he threw his controller down, swearing, "God _fucking _damn it! STOP SPAWN KILLING ME, SPEAROW!"

"Ain't my fault you suck," Spyro replied, grinning widely.

"Fucking asshole! You're a prick!"

"Will you two _stop fighting_!?" Cynder scowled, "Jesus..."

"Your fucking mate won't stop killing me!"

"That's kinda the name of the game, pal," Simba chuckled, not participating, only watching, "Get used to it."

Terrias sat down beside Aria, nuzzling her affectionately and whispering in her ear, "Alex knows..."

Aria stiffened a bit, barely noticeable, before her face adopted an embarrassed frown and she asked, "How did he find out? Did you tell him?"

Terrias shook his head, then explained what Alex had told him.

That night, Alex curled up against Cynder in the aftermath of their private session, the dragoness' hot body pressed tightly against his bare chest, vibrating with her dragonian purring. "Thank you..." she whispered to him, kissing him lightly and nuzzling him. Earlier, after spending several days trying to repair their damaged relationship following his outburst against Spyro, the she-dragon had come to him, willing and _wanting_ to mate with him again.

Alex only chuckled, kissing the top of her head, "No, thank _you_..." and he added, "Listen...I'm still really sorry about Spyro..."

"He doesn't hold grudges, for very long anyway. It may take some time, but he'll forgive you...just...next time you try to make some friends, don't hurt the ones you already have, okay?"

He only nodded, and as Cynder curled even closer to him before finally drifting off, he wrapped his body around hers, cradling her close to him before he fell asleep soon after, and he frowned to find that strange, frightening nightmares plagued his sleep, nightmares of what seemed to be Hell's personal coliseum, and an army of demons cheering on as two creatures, one of them seeming familiar, fought to the death. Even from his dreams, he could feel something in the air, something wasn't right...and the world was obscured in a black aura around him and around the entire city.

A Hornet patrolling the skies above the sleeping city, now past curfew, was the first to notice the unusual weather patterns that seemed to be affecting the area. The skies were darker than usual, and, strangely enough, thunder bellowed on somewhere in the distance. It had been years since the city had seen rain...its proximity to the _Fiernes Curtain _had all but tossed the afflicted areas in an endless drought, turning what was once lush foothills and farmland into an unnaturally hot desert.

Even the wards that had been placed on the _Curtain _to curb the immense heat of the dragonfire emanating from it only slightly controlled the heat, making it somewhat tolerable. It wasn't just the assumed presence of a storm that seemed off either...there was something out. The thunder didn't sound natural, more like an occasional quake, or the movement of some giant creature, than the comforting boom and slight fade into silence that was natural.

Soon after, the lightning struck.

Great, mighty bolts, colored a deep purple zapped in rapid succession around New Alexandria's graveyard, seeming to concentrate on a single place, a memorial that had been established by Alpha Company in memory of their fallen companions prior to the city's establishment as their capital. At first, the crew of the Hornet attributed this highly unusual and eerie weather to natural weather patterns that were warped and twisted by the continuous heat of the burning wall of dragonfire...but that didn't explain why a heavy, rich, almost depressing aura hanged over the city. The air had some kind of electric feel, raising the hairs on their bodies, and a sense of dread, sadness, and faintly of evil saturated the world around them.

The Hornet moved towards the graveyard to try and figure out what was going on, its crew confused and concerned about the weather. As they arrived over the field, heavy raindrops pounded on the craft's walls and windows, hitting hard, as if like hail.

"What the actual hell?" the machine's captain asked, "It's _raining_?"

"Wind's picking up, too, and air pressure is low...this is strange," his copilot replied.

Out of nowhere, another bolt of streak lightning struck, hitting the nose of the aircraft, and both the pilot and copilot screamed out in surprise as, in a flash, an eerie figure clung to it, completely ensconced in shadow.

"What the hell is that!?" the pilot exclaimed.

The shadowy monster, crouching over, suddenly snapped up to face them, vaguely resembling a skeleton, with glowing white lights in place of eyes. It opened it's mouth, as if to speak, baring numerous, tiny fangs. The pilot took evasive action, attempting to throw the demonic creature off, but it somehow managed to maintain its grip, seeming to cling on for dear life. Another bolt of lightning struck the craft, setting the engine aflame and sending the craft into a deadly tailspin. With seconds, it crashed to the ground in the heart of the graveyard, and the shadowy, skeletal creature picked itself up, seeming unsteady on its feet.

It was approximately seven feet tall, seemed to be built rather large, and beneath its decomposed skeleton, rotted organs glowed and pulsed, squirming around as they regenerated and repaired themselves. It stumbled forward across the graveyard's property, heading towards the gates leading out into the rest of the quiet city.

Alex was startled awake by the ringing of his phone. With a groan, he reached over to grab his phone, Cynder, who had been laying curled on his chest, slowly stirring from her sleep and yawning, "Alex? What's going on?" she asked him.

"Vaughn here," Alex grunted, and he began to hear Elliot speak before service cut out and the call dropped, "The hell...?" he asked himself, glaring at his phone.

"Is it...raining?" Cynder asked, suddenly alert. She hopped down onto the ground, jogging over to the French doors leading out to Alex's balcony and pulling aside the curtains, standing on her rear legs, leaning against the glass for support, "Alex! It's raining!" she said with an excited laugh, "Holy shit! It's actually raining!" and she threw open the doors, running outside and standing as the heavy rain splattered against her shining scales, as black as night. She craned her face to the sky, closing her emerald, cat-like eyes in ecstasy and opening her maw, sticking out her smooth, thin tongue to catch them.

Alex joined her on the balcony, clad only in his boxers and an undershirt, leaning against the concrete railing and looking towards the sky. The clouds swirled eerily above the city, and purple lightning struck around Town Center, approximately where the graveyard was. The wind was strong and fast, howling and rotating around them, as if forming a tornado. The shower soon became a downpour, rendering visibility to nearly zero, and the raindrops became much more painful striking the skin, mixing with hail. Even Cynder had to pull back into the safety of the covered balcony to avoid it. Dripping wet, the she-dragon turned to face the Commander with a worried expression, "Is it just me, or is something not right about all of this?"

"I was wondering the same thing..." Alex replied, voice distance, eyes staring anxiously towards Town Center, "Hey...go wake the others, tell them to get ready...I wanna check something out," and he vanished inside his room, throwing open his closet doors and quickly throwing on some clothes.

By the time Alex finally exited his room into the rest of Suite 1, he found the others of Alpha Company gathered around the living room in silence, all piled in front of the wall-length windows behind the couch, opening out over the backyard of Club Camelot and to the river beyond, including the warehouse for New Alexandria's local shipping company, positioned out in the center of the river that completely surrounded the inner city's limits. In the distance, they could see the Everett Suspension Bridge connecting the residential district at the northernmost point of the island upon which the Inner City sat to the agricultural district on the mainland 'Outer' City. A thick fog had settled over the world, giving everything a ghastly silhouette against the blood-red light of the _Fiernes Curtain_ illuminating the city in its captivating glow.

"Yo, Alex!" Piermont, in his human form, exclaimed, irritated, "What's the deal, bro? Just a little rain."

"It's not natural..." Alex growled, "Something's _very _wrong out there...we're gonna go check it out."

"Where we going?" Terrias asked, gently stroking the sleepy Aria's back, the female servine leaning against her mate.

"Town Center."

"That's halfway across the fuckin' town!" Piermont spat, "Do you know what time it is?"

"Stop bitching and get ready, I want to check this out."

"It's a storm, bud," Piermont replied, "We've had them before."

"Not since the _Fiernes Curtain _went up," the Commander replied, throwing on a jacket, "Besides, this isn't like any storm _I've _seen before. Now stop complaining and let's go."

They exited Club Camelot into the stormy night, finding that they weren't the only ones who were concerned about the unnatural weather. Several other patrols had formed, heading out from the military district nearby and towards the residential district together, likely _en route _to Town Center. Now, Alpha Company could just make out what seemed to be smoke rising from somewhere within the city.

"Hey, guy!" Alex called, flagging down one of the squad commanders passing by him, "What's going on?"

"One of our birds was shot down over Town Center," he replied, "Elliot sent us out to investigate."

"Mind if we tag along?"

"Not at all, Commander," he replied.

"Alpha, let's move!"

As they entered Town Center from the residential district to the north, they were suddenly aware of muffled shouts and the sounds of gunfire. Immediately, they leaped into action, arriving just outside the graveyard to find several patrols firing to the southwest.

"Don't let it get away!" one of the squad commanders barked, "Chase it down!"

"What's going on over here?" Alex asked.

"Unidentified humanoid is moving around the city, really fuckin' fast, too."

"It's not human?"

"Not like anything _I've _seen before...whenever our guys get near it, it just barrels right through them...moves like a fucking car..."

"What does it look like?"

The commander shrugged, "I'm not sure, sir...I can't really explain it..."

"Try?"

He sighed, "Like some kind of misty skeleton, sir...there's no skin or muscle, just bone and guts, and these glowing white lights from its eye sockets...looks and smells like it's been dead for years..."

"Where'd it run off, too?"

"Heading towards the southwest business district, sir..." and he turned to face his squad, "Let's move it, ladies! Don't let it get away!" before turning to face the Commander again, "I'm sorry, sir, but we gotta go."

Alex nodded, waving them off.

"What do we do?" Spyro asked.

"Follow the leader," Terrias replied, popping his neck muscles and racing forward, following the squads.

"Hell do you think it is?" Cynder asked.

"Not sure," Alex replied, frowning, "I've never heard of anything like _that _before..."

"Are we seriously talking some kind of zombie bullshit? Cause I ain't ready for that..." Piermont grunted.

"Doubt it, Pierre," Alex replied, "Everyone's nerves are probably shot, and coupled with the eerie ambiance of this storm, people are just imagining or exaggerating details. Plus, it's dark outside, and it's late in the night so most people are probably exhausted."

The squads, tailed by Alpha Company, finally managed to catch up to the unknown figure, and all of the Commander's unit got a glimpse of the creature, racing away before eerily leaping into the air and over the roof of a five story building, landing on the other side. "Don't let it escape!" someone called from the crowd, "Flank it! FLANK IT!" and the crowds split up, taking the building from multiple directions. Alpha Company approached the other side of the building from the northeast side, only to be caught off guard as the figure, now with bits and pieces of flesh reforming over its undead body raced past them as a shadowy blur with incredible speed. It wasn't as fast as a car...it was much faster.

"What the hell _is _that thing!?" Piermont exclaimed, although he was ignored.

Alpha Company rotated and continued pursuing the figure, trying to catch up to it. For an hour they pursued the creature, finally reaching it, only for it to escape their grasp again. Finally, they reached Town Center again, standing in the center of the brick square as they scanned the area for the creature once more. Lightning struck nearby, engulfing a vacant lot into flames, and silhouetted by the flames, its shadow cast upon the brick wall of a building directly across from the lot, they could make out the undead creature, standing unsteadily in place, slightly hunched over. Although it was bipedal, it had taken a mostly animalian form, confirmed by the bones of a tail that extended from its rear, with clumps of fur, blood, and flesh clinging to it.

"You there!" Alex roared, "STOP!"

It immediately turned to face them, hissing an eerie, high pitched screech as it rambled on in an unidentifiable garble with its gritty, corpse-like whisper of a voice. It turned around, as if going to flee again, but found that, one-by-one, its escape was cut off as the rest of the patrols encircled it and blocked all escape routes, it was cornered. The beast raced towards Alex with unnatural speed, and the Commander rolled to the side to avoid its attack, quickly getting back on his feet and opening fire towards the creature. His bullets merely shot through its back, exiting out the other side in sprays of black, syrupy blood, and the creature remained unfazed.

"This isn't good..." the Commander managed before the creature charged towards him again. Terrias shoved him out of the way, withdrawing his SPAS-12 and firing a shot in the creature's lunging face at point-blank range. Its head exploded, quickly reforming itself, and the creature itself was sent flying back from the force, landing on its back with a disgusting crunch. Within seconds, it was instantly on its feet again, and it charged towards Terrias, engaging him in a brief fistfight before managing to wrangle the weapon out of the snivy's hand, effortlessly knocking him aside. Alpha Company stood around the creature, in shock, and it turned to face Alex, once more attempting to communicate.

Although it's voice was still a corpse-like hoarse, he could barely make out what sounded like, "_It's me_..."

Alex was visibly disturbed by this haunting statement, and as he engaged in a brief stare-off with the creature, he began to notice some of its features...it looked _very _familiar. "Wait a minute..." he began, voice distant, eyes wide like a frightened child's, "I know you..."

"Who is it?" Spyro asked, alert and ready to attack if the need arose.

"Rapid...is that _you_!?"

At mention of the name, the creature visibly relaxed, and the others of Alpha Company, or at least those that had been around long enough to remember the skunk fell back in shock and awe. "It can't be Rapid!" Piermont exclaimed, "The old boy died ten years ago! We burned his body and scattered his ashes to the wind behind your parents' old house in Connorsville!"

Alex shook his head in disbelief, "Rapid...it _is _you...isn't it?"

Finally, its body finished regenerating itself, revealing the somber face of the skunk standing tall across from Alex, his head hanging in sadness, angry green eyes holding within them a heavy sadness.

In shock, Alex stepped towards the skunk, suddenly latching onto him in a strong embrace, burying his head in the skunk's furry shoulder. Although he remained silent, his shoulders wracked spastically, a tell-tale sign of what was going on, and Alpha Company took the liberty to scatter the gathered crowd, allowing their founder and friend a little privacy.

"Jesus Christ, Rapid...How...how did you come back?"

In his deep, friendly voice, the skunk replied, "Took a chance to escape the Devil's Arena...I guess it worked, huh...?"

"The Devil's Arena...is that where you went after you died?"

He nodded gravely, "Yeah...it was like..." and his eyes suddenly took on a confused and slightly horrified expression, "I...can't remember..." he shook his head, rubbing his temples, "My head...hurts...memories are so unclear..."

"Don't think too hard," Alex replied, gently lowering his old friend to the ground. Alex took a seat beside him, sighing, "I just...I can't believe you're back...when you died I just..."

"Alex..." he suddenly said, turning to face the Commander, wearing a concerned expression, "How long was I gone? Where am I? Where are _we_? Why are there so many faces that I don't recognize..."

"You died in 2002," Piermont, still in his human form, began, "That was ten years ago."

"Ten years!? I've been gone for _ten years_!?"

"Yes," Alex replied in a sober tone, "It's 2012...you died in 2002."

"What happened between now and then? Why does everything look so different...and who are all these people?"

"It's your old buddy Piermont," the forest dragon chuckled, "Enjoying his fleshy meat suit disguise."

"Well..." Alex sighed, "Long story about all that happened...after you died, 'No-Tongue' tried to escape when his plane was shot down above Lake Michigan. The LKA collapsed soon after that and we took over the base, establishing our _own _headquarters there. The LKA had a minor resurgence until we finished them off for good in 2006 or 7...I don't remember...anyway...come 2008, there was an election, Barry Mabao was elected president and quickly declared war on us for some of our...my...actions during the LKA Uprising after 'No-Tongue' fell. We've been fighting the war since, and along the way, we gained some new friends..." and Alex introduced the newer members of Alpha Company, "Meet Spyro, his...and my...mate Cynder, Shadow, Rudolph, Keisha..." and Alex stood up, clapping Terrias on the shoulder, "And this is Terrias and his mate Aria, our two newest recruits."

"Jeez..." Rapid sighed, shaking his head, "Guess I have a lot of catching up to do, huh?"

"Yup," Piermont chuckled, sticking a cigarette into his mouth, "Yo, Skunk, I know you favor cigars but...want a fag?" and he offered a cigarette to the skunk who quickly denied it.

"No..." Rapid replied, "I'm done with that stuff..."

The human-form dragon shrugged, "Your loss."

"Where are we?" Rapid then asked.

"New Alexandria, Montana, out home and base of operations, succeeding Fort Ozark," the Commander replied, "Once four sister cities in northern Montana known as the 'Montana Quads'. During the LKA Uprising, we colonized them and established a capital here. After the outbreak of the Second American Civil War, the cities all agreed to unite under one banner, and thus New Alexandria was born."

"It's so hot here...I thought Montana was cold..." then he asked, "What time of year is it?"

"It's March," Terrias replied, "In the throes of winter. Reason why it's cold is due to the _Fiernes Curtain_."

"The _Fiernes Curtain_? What's that?"

"We'll show you," Alex replied, helping Rapid to a standing position before heading north, "It'll take awhile before we get there but..."

And he was alarmed by a faint drone, immediately falling silent. Dread sinking in, Alex turned to face his companions, asking, "Does anyone else here something?"

Before they could respond, the boom of a tank broke the silence, and Alpha Company all turned to watch in horror as several blue orbs of light arched into the sky to the south, exploding in the air above them. The electron forcefield flickered briefly before extinguishing, and the city instantly darkened, illuminated only by the light of the _Fiernes Curtain_.

"Fucking hell!" Piermont hissed, Alpha Company beginning a brisk jog south, "It's the goddamn _Maxia_!"

"The who?" Rapid asked as sirens, protected from E. , blared throughout the city.

"Nevermind that brother, we gotta get our asses moving! _NOW!_"


	34. Chapter XXXIII: Catalyst

_**Chapter XXXIII**_**:**

**-''Catalyst''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**20 March 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0930 Hours**_**-**

"Wait! Wait! Wait! I don't understand! What's going on?" Rapid exclaimed, out of breath, struggling to keep up with the sprinting Alpha Company.

"We're at war!" Piermont growled, "Better oil up those rusty old bones of yours and get ready to fight!"

"War? Against who?"

"The feds!" Alex spat, "United States declared war on us a few years ago."

"_What!? _Why?"

"Cause Mabao is a corrupt sonuvabitch!" Piermont replied.

"Who?"

"Never mind! We'll talk later! Now get your ass moving, skunk!"

They all looked to the skies in horror as _Maxian _gunships entered the city's airspace, deploying Elites onto the broken, wartorn streets of New Alexandria. Alex killed a squad of _Maxian _soldiers, picking up one of their weapons and tossing it to Rapid, "Hope your aim is still good, brother..." the Commander began, "Shoot anything and everything that wears all black."

"Who's pulling the goddamn reins _this _time?" Piermont scowled, "Fuckin' 'Necro' or those two faggots?"

"Not important!" Alex replied bitterly, "Just concentrate on keeping the _Maxia _out of the city! I'll get a hold of Elliot and tell him to start evacuations, if he hasn't already."

"Fuckin' Hermann-Reid!" the dragon, now in his natural form, roared, "Those assholes _really _piss me off!"

"_Everything _pisses you off, Pierre," Terrias chuckled gravely.

"Fuck you, Snake!"

"I see you haven't changed one bit, Pierre..." Rapid sighed, chuckling lightly, "At least _some _things don't change."

"What?" Alex replied, firing towards a _Maxian _gunship hovering above the streets, about to empty its load of passengers, "That Piermont is a hot-headed, foul-mouthed sonuvabitch?"

"Hey! Go to hell, Alex! I didn't do nothin' to you! Fuckin' asshole."

"Yep," Rapid grinned, "Same ol' Pierre..."

"We can reminisce later, Skunk!" Piermont growled, "How about you starting shooting people? Don't make us pull the load! Now you're back in the game, _you _can help!"

As Alpha Company made their way to the northern ramparts, where the Hermann-Reid _appeared _to be coming from right now, they found themselves fighting through congested crowds of civilians, all panicking and rushing to be evacuated. The _Maxia _landed in the heart of the crowds, firing towards the civilians and shepherding them out of the way, not seeming to actively try to hurt anyone.

"Looks like 'Necro''s in control..." Cynder said, "Or at least, these guys are loyal to him...they're only targeting soldiers."

"Thank Christ..." Piermont chuckled, "I still hate the motherfucker, but I prefer 'Necro' over the triggerhappy, queer-ass Tartarus Unit. At least _'Necro'_'s got a pair of balls, and he doesn't suck 'em or shove 'em up his ass either."

"Yeah, I have no idea what you guys are talking about..." Rapid replied, confused.

Releasing an exasperated sigh, Alex quickly reiterated what was going on, juggling this with taking down _Maxian _soldiers who engaged them, "Back in 2009, recently elected President Barry Mabao declared war on us for...something...who the hell knows why. Anyway, he gathered together a bunch of U.S soldiers, convinced them we were terrorists, then proceeded to organize his personal army into something he called the _Maxia _Regime. From there, he elected a two-man kill team, known as the Tartarus Unit, to maintain P.R with the public and pester us on the front, granting them the illusion of control over his forces, aside from that, they're a couple of babbling idiots who fuck up everything they touch and are virtually harmless. To actually _command _the _Maxian _forces, Mabao elected former Navy SEAL General 'Necro', real name unknown. Fortunately for us, the Tartarus Unit and 'Necro' frequently seem to clash and butt heads since 'Necro' isn't a warmongering asshole, he does what he absolutely has to and nothing more. The Tartarus Unit don't give two shits about who gets caught in the crossfire. 'Necro' only wants our heads, but will not attack if it means doing wrong to innocents. The Tartarus Unit doesn't care, they'll go after us regardless of who is harmed in the process. That's all you absolutely need to know right now, we can finish storytime and catching up on the decade you've missed once we repel the Hermann-Reid."

"Hermann-Reid?"

"The Hermann-Reid 1st Armoured Division," Spyro replied, "A...well...armored division that Mabao and the _Maxia _put together. They're the only ones who have been able to get past the _Curtain_ and reach us."

"Curtain? What curtain?"

"We'll talk about this later!" Alex hissed, "Concentrate unless you want to die again!"

"All right! All right...jeez. You've gotten kinda mean in the past ten years, Alex."

"Yeah? War does shit to you, mate."

"Never seemed to bother you before."

"Times change, and the threat is much bigger this time than some pissy little cult like the LKA...who we destroyed. They're gone, long gone, and they ain't ever comin' back...hopefully."

As they crossed through the northernmost reaches of the residential district, heading towards the north bridge between the city proper and the mainland 'outer' city, the radio was suddenly abuzz with worried cries and exclamations of surprise, fear, and worry. Residual E. lingering throughout the area disrupted communications, and the radio jargon was incomprehensible through rough static. All they could gather was that something big was coming, something very big, and very bad. As they neared the bridge, a deafening drone of some massive engine filled their ears, eerily familiar and causing Alex's heart to sink.

"That _better _not be what I fuckin' think it is!" Piermont growled.

"Impossible," Alex replied, "There's no way the _Maxia _could have gotten their hands on that tech."

"Y'know," Spyro began, "Once upon a time, I may have believed that...now? Not so much. Mabao's wallet seems to be bottomless."

"Well," Piermont interrupted, "If it _IS_ what I think it is, then so much for 'Necro''s goddamn code. Those things will rip this entire city to pieces in seconds."

"What things?" Rapid asked.

"I'd rather not say until I know for sure..." he growled bitterly, and the others in Alpha Company, sans the newly-resurrected Rapid, seemed to agree.

When the eerily fast staccato of large, powerful artillery filled the air, and the world shook violently around them as if some immense drill was tunneling beneath them, Alpha Company's fears became even more prominent...there was no way the _Maxia _could have obtained such technology...it was impossible.

Alpha hurried onto the ramparts, finding the guards standing around in dumb shock, jaws dropped, staring in fear towards the wastelands beyond the city's hundred foot tall, outer, standstone walls. Upon stepping onto the cobblestone pathway atop the mighty New Alexandrian walls, the mutants all joined the Terminator forces as their fears were realized.

"What is _THAT_!?" Rapid asked, concern in his voice.

"I don't..." Piermont began, voice small and in denial, "I don't _fucking _believe it..."

"How the hell did the _Maxia _get their hands on a _MINECRAWLER_!?" Cynder exclaimed.

Alex shook his head as he watched the immense, nearly indestructible tank approach them, still much smaller than the true Minecrawlers the militia had access to. Whereas the _actual _Minecrawlers were the literal size of Central Park, as tall as the Empire State Building, and powered entirely by solar energy streams, this one was about the size of three football fields, as tall as a thirty story building. It was massive, it was deadly, but it wasn't a true City Minecrawler, and for this, they were thankful.

"What's a Minecrawler...?" Rapid asked in a stunned voice.

"A big-ass fuckin' tank," Piermont replied, "With fifty cannons that fire in an almost full-auto fashion...this...isn't a Minecrawler, but it's pretty damn close. How did the _Maxia _get a hold of something like this?"

"They must have captured basic blueprints or reverse-engineered their own..." Alex replied, "It might be connected to that big database leak that 'Necro' orchestrated back when he captured Spyro."

"Well, this thing better not be as tough as the Minecrawlers, else our balls are screwed to the wall..." Piermont frowned.

"Doubt it," Alex replied, "If it was nearly as armored as the Minecrawlers, it wouldn't be able to move. This thing is powered by...looks like a nuclear reactor, or several nuclear reactors, not energy streams."

"Don't know if that's good or bad."

"Good that it's not indestructible," Cynder replied.

"Yeah," Terrias interrupted, "And bad because if we damage it too severely, it'll be the equivalent of detonating a nuclear bomb on our doorstep...we'll become the next Chernobyl...only _much _worse. Fun, huh?"

"How do you suppose we take it on then?" Rapid asked.

"Simple," Alex replied, managing a grim smile, "Don't send it...or them...into meltdown," and he stepped forward, ordering to the guards, "C'mon ladies! Get going! I want _all _fire concentrated on the _Maxian _Minecrawler! Take out the biggest guns you got and start shooting! If we all do this as one, we can break through the outer hull and hopefully damage it enough that it shuts itself down without turning the city into an irradiated crater!"

Instantly, RPGs and the ramparts' mounted triple-A weapons concentrated their fire on the imposing tank, temporarily letting the enemy infantry and armor slip past them. It would take much longer for the rest of the Hermann-Reid to breach the walls, reinforced even thicker and stronger since the last attack, than it would take for the _Maxian _Minecrawler to break through. Fifteen heavy cannons, each the size of the Nazi railguns, fired consecutively towards the city wall, attempting to bring it down and make an opening for the enemy forces.

Upon closer examination, they could tell that the machine's armor was glowing faintly, and steam was pouring off of its hull...it had recently traversed the _Curtain_. Unfortunately, that meant that it was likely composed of either the same alloy as the friendly Minecrawlers, or a close, artificial substitute. On the positive side, it meant that the armor was likely surprisingly thin, since the heavy alloy the militia used, although resistant to the immense heat of dragonfire and reliably strong against shelling and deterioration, was almost impractically heavy. This forced their armored weapons to be plated with it, with a thin veil of liquid nitrogen pumped into the empty space between the plating and normal, reinforced steel instead of crafted directly from the resilient metallic compound. In order for the enemy machine to move beneath the weight of the alloy, even with the help of one or even several nuclear reactors, the armor had to be relatively thin.

"Keep firing on it!" Alex roared, manning a vacant triple-A railgun, "It's plated in Compound X, but the armor's gotta be thin if the machine is moving on its own!"

"How the hell can you tell that?" Piermont growled over the roar of the machine's engines.

"It recently passed through the _Curtain_," Alex replied, "She's glowing a bit, and she's smoking like a pipe."

"If the _Maxia _were using the machine to move their forces through the _Curtain_, that could explain where these sons of bitches keep coming from," Cynder replied.

"Yes, but wouldn't it _also_ mean that your 'impassable' wall of fire is now traversable?" Terrias asked in a singsong tone.

"Taking things one at a time, Terrias," Alex replied, returning his full attention to the enemy Minecrawler.

Finally, after nearly an hour of firing continuously towards the encroaching weapon, and just as they were about to run dry of ammunition, it finally broke down, abruptly shutting down and becoming engulfed in flames. One by one, each of the tank's cannons erupted in plumes of fire as the magazines detonated, and the troops upon the ramparts cheered at their victory. Suddenly, however, a large door on the roof of the Minecrawler, lobbing a white orb into the air.

"What the hell is that?" Terrias asked, and he elbowed Alex, pointing towards the ground. The _Maxia _were quickly pulling back as fast as they possibly could. The orb arched above the city, coming down upon roughly where Town Center was before it detonated in the air. A bright flash of light blinded the onlookers, sending them falling back in pain, accompanied by a deafening, powerful boom. Soon after, a powerful, hot wind blew past them, sending them plummeting to the ground in a daze.

Ears ringing with tinnitus, body strangely numb, Alex blinked in surprised, standing on unsteady legs as he held a hand to his forehead, trying to see the world through his blindness, as if staring into the sun. Once his vision returned, he was aware that the whole world was a lit in a bright orange hue. Flames burned on every exposed surface of the city and a towering mushroom cloud rose from the center of the city. His eyes widened in real terror, and he could hear nothing, he was completely deaf. Around him, his brothers all picked themselves unsteadily up off the ground, flames feeding off their bodies. All friendly forces exchanged terrified glances at the realization that they were all aflame, although they could not feel the flames eating at their flesh. Instead, they simply felt a warm, summer heat blowing around them.

Terrias tried to speak to him, but he could not hear, and everything was moving in a slow-motion blur. Finally, he managed to read the snivy's lips, "_We've been nuked!_"

The confused Terminator forces merely looked around at each other, wondering what had happened. Alex watched as the skin on his comrades darkened like burning paper beneath the flames before healing and regenerating instantaneously...what was even more eerie was that there were no blue sparks of healing coming off of them..._their mutations were not healing the wounds_.

"_How are we still alive_?" Spyro mouthed.

Mouth twisting into a ghastly grin, Alex led his forces off the ramparts and down onto the streets, now appearing like a rolling sea of fire. The whole city appeared as if it was dwelling in the hottest depths of Hell, with only flames to see as far as the eye could reach. Fallout rained from the sky like gentle, black snow, briefly touching the ground before it was blown up and over the walls by the nuclear wind. They forced the gates open, charging through them and flooding into the Burned Lands, still all engulfed in flames, charging towards the _Maxian _forces with Alpha Company at their head. The _Maxia_, who had been observing from the distance, instantly began to pull back once more upon spying the still-alive Terminator forces charging towards them. Horrified that their plan had ultimately failed, the Hermann-Reid desperately tried to flee, but their machines refused to start, rendered useless by the E. from the nuclear blast. The fallout that had blown away from the city gathered around the immobile forces, and many of the _Maxian _soldiers succumbed to radiation poisoning before the militia could even reach them. The Terminator front parted, allowing their own machines, burning like candles, to roll easily towards the enemy forces, ripping them to shreds.

Up ahead, at the end of the party, Alex could just make out a familiar gunship disappear in a flash of blue light in the smoky skies above the Burned Lands...so the Tartarus Unit _had _been responsible for the attack. He should have figured, 'Necro' would have _never _nuked anyone, regardless if they were friend or foe. In fact, the Commander wouldn't even be surprised if 'Necro' was appalled by this attack. Upon the failure of their machines to escape, the _Maxian _survivors clambered out into the open, running as far away from the Terminator forces as fast as they could manage on foot, shortly before they were overtaken and slaughtered by the counteroffensive. Within minutes, the deadly Hermann-Reid 1st Armoured Division was obliterated with only a small few units managing to get away. Even if the division _did _rebuild, it would be a long time before they could amass such a large force again. The battle won and silence overtaking the gory battlefield, Alex turned to face the sky, observing as the first news agencies arrived on scene to film the carnage, and he, with a hellish, animalian scream, launched a fireball towards the first three choppers he saw, destroying one and damaging another. No doubt Mabao and the media would use this battle against them.

His nerves calming, he turned to face New Alexandria, where the flames slowly suffocated and the ashy fallout ceased to fall, leaving the city miraculously unharmed. He didn't know what happened, all he knew was that they had been directly nuked, and had managed to get away completely unscathed. The only damage done to them or the city had been accomplished by the Hermann-Reid or the _Maxian _Minecrawler. His senses returning to normal and the flames feeding upon him abruptly extinguishing with a hiss, Alex approached a shocked and stunned Spyro, standing with his jaw gaping open, "So...you believe in God now?"

The dragon only turned to face him, stunned speechless. The rest of Alpha Company had been rendered mute as well, and it was several minutes before Terrias broke the silence, saying, "I have no _fucking _idea what just happened..." and he caught Alex, "Before you say anything, no, I do not believe. There has to be another reason for this."

Alex chuckled, "Yeah...you have fun digging some kinda scientific explanation out of your ass," and he began to walk back towards the city.

"Screw you," Terrias replied, "Why would 'God' protect us from a nuclear explosion but not protect Hiroshima or Nagasaki or Chernobyl or Japan or _any _victims of _any _disaster, natural or artificial. there's another reason for it. Either he's not real or he just sits there and plays favorites, which is bullshit and unfair, or he sits there like some lazy son of a bitch. If he's real," and Terrias threw his arms to the sky, "Let me be struck by lightning where I stand _AND SURVIVE_!"

"Either that, or God just wanted to laugh at the _Maxia_'s misfortune as they crawled away in fear at the realization that perhaps they chose to fuck with the wrong crowd," Piermont chuckled.

"Then he must have one hell of a sick sense of humor. Such a righteous and 'good' soul tormenting those less fortunate. You're not special," the snivy replied, "_We're _not special, and even if God _did _exist, why would he play favorites?"

"I've learned not to question Him," Alex replied.

"_You're _religious..." Terrias chuckled, "Sorry Alex, but that truly does surprise me. I've read bits and pieces of the Bible, and I distinctly remember one specific passage calling out the act of fucking animals."

Alex frowned in response.

"Plus, I'm sure you've broken every single one of the Ten Commandments, and you probably don't care, am I right?"

"Piss off!"

"Wait...you've...slept with animals?" Rapid exclaimed in surprise.

"Cyn's not an animal!" Alex growled, "She's every bit as human as me, as everyone here!" and without another word, he stormed back towards the city.

That night, Alex requested to meet with General Elliot. Upon being allowed inside, the Commander took a seat across from the general, whose face was buried in his computer, typing reports, "What can I get you, Vaughn?" he replied gruffly, puffing from a thick cigar in the corner of his mouth, a bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on the desk next to him.

Removing his officer's cap and sitting tall and erect in his chair, Alex smiled maliciously towards the general, "I think it's time, Elliot."

"Time?" the general replied, sitting back, "Time for what? You know I hate the goddamn guessing game, boy-o!"

Alex leaned forward in his chair, hands connected before him, "I think it's time we commence _Operation: Armageddon_."

Elliot visibly stiffened in his chair, "Are you fuckin' serious, Vaughn? We're not _nearly _ready enough to do that just yet. I've told you numerous times before, this is a massive effort, and getting our entire force to work together in perfect synchronization isn't easy. Plus, we lack the Intel we need to pull it off successfully anyway. Don't be stupid, boy! Unless you wanna see another Charity Hill unfold."

"Plastro's weakness was his own arrogance. Lack of proper Intelligence was only part of the battle, he didn't take the proper precautions before we could launch the attack, plus we were caught in a strategic stranglehold. There were fifteen miles of clear, flat land with no cover between us and that fortress, we were fucked from the start. This is different, I've seen the photographs from the _Ring_, I've studied them for weeks, I know where we can attack and from which directions, just trust me."

"Vaughn...if we don't properly prepare, _Operation: Armageddon_ can and _WILL _claim the entire militia. Is that _really _a risk you want to take?"

"Yes," Alex replied, "This bombing earlier today...I can't help but feel that it was God telling us we were ready."

"I highly doubt that, boy," Elliot smirked, "I'm as religious as the next guy, but you sound like one of those zealots...and you and your little quirks _definitely _don't scream 'Chosen One' material."

"Regardless, I can't help but feel like we're ready, and my gut tends to be right."

"I can think of several occasions where that wasn't the case."

Alex glared at him.

"Sorry, kid. I'm not gonna let your bloodlust damn this whole army down the crapper!"

"We've fought long enough," Alex replied coldly, "We have the resources, and we're in the final stages of planning. We have everything we need, it's time."

Elliot sighed, "If this fails, we're all dead...you know that right?"

Alex nodded, leaning back in his chair once again.

Finally, the general submitted, "Fine...I'll make a few phone calls. I'll let you know when we're ready."

"Thank you, Elliot," and the Commander thrust out a hand which Elliot reluctantly shook.

"Yeah, but if you get my ass killed...I swear to fuckin' Christ, I'm haunting your sorry ass."

"It's a deal," and Alex let himself out of the room, leaving the general alone at his desk.


	35. Chapter XXXIV: Dogs of War

_**Chapter XXXIV**_**:**

**-''_Operation: Armageddon, _Pt. I: Dogs of War''-**

**-The Southern Wastelands-**

**-**_**22 April 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0759 Hours**_**-**

"This is Bev Anderson live from southern West Virginia, as you can see below, we are witnessing the largest invasion force in the history of mankind marching towards the wall of fire. Sources have confirmed that the Terminator Militia is on the move, though no one knows what exactly they are planning. We have tried to reach them for more information, but have been unable to contact anyone. We will keep you updated..."

The Terminator forces rolled towards the _Fiernes Curtain_, _en route _to the Necropolis. At its head, Alex manned the command tank's M240, barking over the radio, "Listen up! We're five minutes out from the _Curtain_, once we get there, we are to hold position until Piermont and Beta Company can pave the way for us!"

"Hell's the plan? This just seems so sudden, are we sure this will work?" Spyro asked, riding in another tank further down the line.

"It has to," Alex replied, "Once the _Curtain _comes down, we are to cross into the Southern Wastelands and fight our way to Necropolis. The _Maxia _think they can get away with the bullshit they pulled back in New Alexandria? We're gonna show them that they woke the sleeping beast. This war has gone on long enough, it ends here!"

"Vaughn," Elliot suddenly said over the line, "Beta Company has reported that the _Maxia _are gathering at the _Curtain_, hope you're ready for a firefight."

"Course we are," Alex replied with a grisly chuckle, then back to the others, "Show no mercy against these sons of bitches!" then he added, "And for the love of Christ, somebody chase away that fucking chopper!"

Shortly after relaying this command, several Terminator tanks fired towards the circling news helicopter, chasing it away. With a grim smile, the Commander glanced around at his amassed force, fifteen thousand tanks, hundreds of thousands of infantry, countless pieces of artillery and aircraft for further support, and the _Ring_, although still under repairs from the _Maxian _hack, on standby in the event they had no other option. The militia had as many of their assets participating as they could muster, surely one _Maxian _city, regardless how armored it was, could hold up against such an immense army.

"I need to remind you, Alex," Elliot suddenly spoke up, "We're rolling into the _Maxia_'s capital, we're probably gonna see some of the most skilled soldiers in the United States military there on the defense. Mabao might be an asshole, but he ain't stupid, don't let our numbers go to your head, this will likely be the hardest challenge yet for us."

"To be expected," the Commander replied, "The hardest part will be taking on 'Necro' again. We're on their home turf now, they have the advantage."

"Not worried about the Tartarus Unit, Vaughn?"

"Hell no, those two dumbasses can't do anything right, I'm more concerned over 'Necro'."

"Fair enough, but don't underestimate them here. Like you said, we're on the _Maxia_'s home turf, they _WILL _go no-holes-barred to defend the city."

"Didn't seem to have a problem when you took on DC."

"Yeah, well DC wasn't a copycat New Alexandria."

Alex shrugged, "Fair point." Shortly after ending the conversation, they reached the _Fiernes Curtain_. "Hold position here!" he continued, "We need to wait for Beta!"

"It'll be a few," Piermont suddenly spoke up over the radio, "There's a _lotta _goons down here, and they're surprisingly accurate."

"We've cornered the beast," Alex replied, "Even _'Necro' _will probably put forth his full effort here."

Alex looked around as, one-by-one, the rest of the militia's tanks slowed to a halt. The infantry gathered around the machines, training their weapons towards the _Curtain_, not sure what to expect but ready for it nevertheless.

"Ready or not, here I come!" Piermont laughed maniacally, and Alex turned to the skies as Piermont emerged through the smoky sky on his left, leading several wings of dragonriders. "Let's bring this sumbitch down!"

The ground forces sheltered their eyes as the dragons all opened their great maws, spewing dark fire down onto the wall. A powerful, hot wind blew through the Terminator forces, sending them to the ground. When the blinding light cleared, the world was noticeably darker, and Alex grinned maliciously at the sight of dozens of _Maxian _infantry on the other side of the downed _Curtain_, incapacitated. "SHOOT THEM!" the Commander roared, "BLOW THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS AWAY!"

Instantly, the world was filled with the music of hundreds of Tiger II's firing in unison, ripping through the stunned resistance. The survivors quickly picked themselves off the ground and began to run back towards the city, Alex fired towards them relentlessly, slaughtering everyone he saw.

"Don't let them get away! Mow them ALL down!"

His tank kicked it back into high gear, and they rolled over the steaming wasteland and into the ashen wastelands beyond. Around them, _Maxian _soldiers who had been separated from the rest of their fleeing units raised their arms in surrender, shortly before they were gunned down in cold blood.

"They're surrendering! What the hell are we doing!?" Spyro exclaimed.

"I said no survivors!" Alex roared, "Every last one of these fuckers will burn!"

Spyro instantly turned to face Cynder, riding with him, both exchanging expressions of horror, "Is Alex serious?" he asked his mate.

"Make them suffer!" Alex roared, reloading his weapon and proceeding to fire towards the fleeing and surrendering soldiers, "Don't bother finishing them off if they're wounded! LET THEM BLEED! Let them feel the pain of their sins! They brought this upon themselves, and they will answer for it! There is no mercy to be found here!"

"I'm as much for bloodlust as the next guy, Alex," Terrias suddenly spoke up, riding in the Commander's tank, "But I think you're overdoing it a bit."

"I don't fucking care, Karma's a bitch, huh?"

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a call from the gunner of another tank further ahead, "_Maxian _anti-armor emplacements around the area, watch your asses."

"You see the city?" Alex asked.

"Roger, but she's surrounded, literally looks like the ground's crawling."

"Let's send them on an all-expense-paid trip to the Pearly Gates, huh?"

"Roger that, Commander."

"Pierre, see if you can scout ahead and clear out some room for us, we're about ten minutes out," Alex called.

"You got it, Alex."

"Spyro, Cynder, care to join him?"

"Not in this chaos," Cynder replied.

"Afraid of a little fighting?"

"No, with the way you're pushing everyone to slaughter anything and everything in sight, I don't wanna get caught in friendly crossfire. They're not even checking their targets out here!"

"Shoot first, ask questions later, it's easier to fight that way."

"You would know, wouldn't you? Plastro taught you right it seems."

Alex didn't respond.

Several minutes later, they found themselves rolling up a large, steep hill, obscuring all view of the world beyond from sight. Alex was briefly brought back to Charity Hill before the sound of friendly _Nebelwerfers _firing on the _Maxian _defenders brought him back to the present. As his column finally reached the peak, they were granted a full, panoramic view of the carnage. The ground between them and the Necropolis was packed with _Maxian _and Terminator forces, blindly trading blows and hoping they didn't hurt their friend beside them. The tanks were finding difficulty in navigating the cluttered battlefield, caught in the traffic of the infantry and sitting ducks for anti-armor crews on the Necropolis' mighty walls. Friendly aircraft was faring noticeably better, dogging the enemy forces on the ramparts to buy time for the friendly armor to reach the gates while also strafing around and decimating airfields to prevent enemy aircraft from taking off.

A faint, blue tint colored the air around the Necropolis, marking that it was protected by a forcefield, and Alex ordered for Piermont to lead a wing to try and overheat the tower emitting the electron forcefield, forcing a shutdown. Built into the walls, artillery and autoturrets pestered the bloody battlefield. Do to the close quarters, many of the numbers on both sides of the conflict had resorted to melee combat, as everything except for small arms was mostly ineffective. "Don't let them call an artillery strike on our asses!" Alex growled.

"They won't," Elliot replied, "They're own guys are mingled with ours, 'Necro' won't let Mabao fire on them if it means potentially bringing harm to his allies."

"Even while cornered?"

"Yes, even while cornered."

"One hell of a graduation exercise," Terrias chuckled, "Not that I'm complaining of course. The battlefield is like a second home to me."

"Make yourself comfortable brother, we're gonna be here for awhile."

"Ura."

From his position at the top of the hill, while his tank provided overwatch to their advancing forces, finally starting to gain some semblance of organization, Alex watched as Piermont and Arian took turns breathing fire down upon the black tower that emitted the forcefield, standing tall and erect from the stone walls of the Necropolis. After a number of minutes of continuous pressure from the dragons, the smoking tower finally gave out and the forcefield flickered out with an electric hiss. Within seconds after that, the walls were hammered upon and nearly ripped to shreds by the concentrated fire of the Terminator tanks.

"We're moving up the line," the tank commander called, patting Alex on the foot to get his attention, "Might wanna keep your head down."

"I'm fine," Alex replied bitterly, loading a fresh belt into his M240 and continuing the onslaught, "Just keep the turret as steady as you can."

"We'll move once the flame tanks go through, it'll be a few minutes still."

"I'm patient."

When Alex's tank finally bucked to life, rolling down the hill and towards the looming city, Alex watched, wearing a faint, ghastly smile as the _Maxian _forces around them began to panic and break organization. Once more, he was brought back to Charity Hill, remembering the sense of joy and superiority he fought as he and Zack brutally ripped through the opposition, even while outnumbered, outgunned, and vulnerable. He relished in the feeling once again, it was like reuniting with an old friend. Around him, the horrors of battle continued, and he smiled as the enemy troops were ripped to bloody shreds by the overpowering militia, hardly standing a chance. Perhaps the _Son of Satan _hadn't left him entirely.

"We're moving towards the gates," the tank commander spoke up, "We've finally cleared a path."

"Blow 'em apart."

"That's what we're doing...you going in on foot to lead the charge?"

"You bet."

"Rog, I'll get the other M240."

"MOVE UP!" a _Maxian _officer roared, leading his squad to the south gates, where dozens of other units had already set up defensive positions in preparation for the militia's arrival. Their forces were hard-pressed, especially since most of them had been out with the Hermann-Reid when it fell, but they had all promised to hold the city to their last breath, orders they intended to maintain.

From the crowd, waiting in silence, a colonel, having joined the battle, spoke up, "We can do this gentlemen. We've held up to much greater threats, we toppled the British empire, slaughtered the Third Reich and protected ourselves against a bloody battle on American soil at Pearl Harbor, even held our own in a bloody civil war, surely we can neutralize a little, amateur militia!"

"Little?" another, much younger voice spoke up, "Man, you seen how many guys are out there? They outnumber us by the thousands!"

"Have faith! The United States Armed Forces are the greatest military superpower in the world, the Terminator Militia is nothing more than a glorified cult, they're not professionally trained, we can take them."

"Alpha Company's out there!"

"If it bleeds, we can kill it."

"And the dragons?" another voice spoke up.

"Our Triple-A positions will keep them out of the city as long as we can. Gentlemen, it's up to us to keep them from getting through that gate. If we do this, we can finally go home to our families."

"Is the President ordering evacuations yet? We need to get the civilians out of here, the Terminators are ruthless and will shoot everything in sight, those civvies won't stand a chance if they're here and we fail."

"We _won't _fail. Think of your wives and kids back home, remember that if we get through this, we'll be home for supper."

Finally, another soldier spoke up from the crowd, "It's been an honor serving with you all."

"Indeed it has," the colonel replied.

The gate erupted in a ball of flame and rich black smoke settled throughout the square. In a daze, the _Maxia _picked themselves up off the ground, trying to survive through the onslaught. From the other side of the smoke, the Terminator forces shelled the interior of the city, and the _Maxian _defenders struggled to reorganize themselves. Alpha Company soon leaped from the smoke, spearheaded by Alex, firing towards every person he saw. Those that weren't gunned down by the Commander were mangled and mauled by the animalian members of Alpha Company.

As Alex began to move up the street, he spied an older man, appearing to be a colonel, crawling across the ground, hand clutched to his bleeding stomach, firing a pistol towards the boy. Even through his mortal injuries, he bared his teeth, firing an entire clip into the Commander, who hardly flinched as his wounds instantly healed. With a wide, toothy grin, Alex took aim and fired until all that remained was a mangled pile of blood and gore. "Move up!" the Commander spat, "We need to secure an area for a staging ground, we won't hold up forever!"

From his office on the top floor of the palatial citadel located in the heart of the Necropolis, Mabao sat in his armchair before the wall-wide window looking out over the city, watching as flames erupted throughout the city, the militia was making ground and razing everything that got in their way. He calmly sipped from a cup of Chamomile tea, opera playing over his stereo, all while the world burned around him.

There was a light knock on the door, "Come in!"

"Mister President, sir!" a young soldier spoke, saluting, "You're helicopter is ready, sir!"

"I will be there shortly, are the Tartarus Unit and General 'Necro' ready to engage?"

"The Tartarus Unit is, sir, but we have been unable to find the general, he's not in his quarters."

"Make sure he gets down there on the front, we need all the help we can get."

"Yes, sir, I'll let the others know."

A fresh wave of _Maxian _soldiers piled out of an apartment complex, having cleared it of civilians. Upon emerging from the building into the quaking, burning world, reeking of sulfur, burning flesh, and blood, they were greeted by the sight of several bloodied soldiers fleeing away from the gate, heading up the street, likely survivors of the defenders at the gate, moving towards another fortification further up the line. Most of them were gunned down by stray fire from an unseen enemy, but a few of them were tackled by various members of Alpha Company and mauled to death. Their worse fears confirmed, the guards turned to flee back into the apartment complex before being shot in the back by Gamma Company soldiers.

"Move into those buildings!" Alex roared, appearing around the corner, "Shoot everything that moves! Everything in this fucking city is hostile!"

"Even civilians, sir?"

"Their own damn fault for aligning with the _Maxia_, call it collateral damage. Who knows what tricks Mabao has up his sleeve. Wouldn't put it beyond that son of a bitch to throw soldiers into civilian clothes so he can catch us off guard. Best not take the risk."

Once Alpha Company had reorganized themselves, Alex tapped his earpiece, calling, "Elliot, see if you can figure out where Mabao's hiding, wanna make sure I put in a bullet between that fucker's eyes."

"Already doing that, Vaughn...nothing yet."

"Meanwhile," and the Commander turned to face his squad, "We need to keep moving up the line, secure as many positions as we can, try to establish some fortifications for our boys...maybe set up a staging yard as well, it's already getting late and we've hardly scratched the surface..." he looked around at the surrounding buildings: the city's architecture almost Venetian in appearance, with cobblestone roads and even a few canals snaking throughout. Mabao had clearly intended to make the city luxurious and self-sustaining, while also mimicking the militia's idea of producing a unique charm to the city's architecture to make it stick out from other settlements in this burnt hellhole. Definitely no trace of Washington DC remained. "Shit..." he suddenly said, "Might even be able to set up another capital once all this shit blows over. How'd you like that, huh, Mabao?"

Moving further into the city, they not only encountered heavy _Maxian _resistance, but also encountered confused and terrified civilians, in the middle of evacuations, fleeing from the sight of the battle, trying to find safety. Caring little about what he deemed as inferior and expendable pawns to be used by Mabao as future reinforcements, the Commander spare no thought in killing everything he saw. There were no friends here, and he had to make sure that he drove fear and knowledge of what the militia, when angered, was capable of into the people. The only way to maintain any control over the city was to rule the place with fear, the only way he guaranteed would prevent anyone from trying to usurp them if they _did _decide to establish a permanent settlement in the city.

The _Maxia _refused to surrender beneath the onslaught, as if they would be allowed to anyway. They did everything they could to try and fight back, but found their attempts feeble against the furious and aggressive Terminators. All while they advanced further into the city, targeting a nearby communication center, Alex taunted his opponents, relishing in the carnage they were dealing upon the enemy capital. Although a few members of Alpha Company seemed unfazed by Alex's behavior, most of them, even ones who had served alongside him for years, seemed disgusted by his actions. Spyro and Cynder themselves were horrified by what was occurring, only to have Piermont coldly respond to them, "These sons of bitches deserve everything they get. They've fucked with us long enough, it's time they reap what they sowed."

"But this is ridiculous," Cynder protested, shaking her head, "Slaughtering the _Maxia _is one thing, but slaughtering civilians? They're just trying to get away from here and Alex is gunning them down!" 

"You've got a problem, Cyn?" Alex growled.

"Yes, in fact, I do. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm tired of putting up with their bullshit. They made us suffer, I fully intend to pay them back double time."

Cynder shook her head in denial, "You're a monster..."

"Sue me!" he hissed, continuing his onslaught, "Now, if you're that appalled by it, you can cover our asses! I'm giving them everything they deserve, nothing more, nothing less! I'm a helluva lot more merciful than I could be!"

They soon reached their destination, finding the station being heavily shelled by friendly artillery. A few bloodied _Maxian _soldiers struggled to hold against the offensive but were swiftly brought down. Following this, Alex stormed the structure, cutting through the building's occupants, mostly military civilians, and fighting his way to the heart of the station.

Now with one of the _Maxia_'s channels of communication fully under their control, Alex connected to it, calling out to all that could hear, "You sons of bitches have fucked with us for far too long! We've patiently taken what you've dealt us, holding strong against your power, but now we've reached our limit! You've poked the sleeping beast one to many times, and now you will face the _FULL _wrath of the Terminator Militia! If you have any care for your pathetic lives you will flee as far away as you can! We will slaughter every last one of you until there is nothing left! We will show you the same mercy you have showed us! Abandon your posts and your homes or get ready to fight to the bitter end! Those who stay behind will crumble beneath our iron fist! The Terminator Militia is taking over!"


	36. Chapter XXXV: Revelations

_**Chapter XXXV**_**:**

**-''_Operation: Armageddon, _Pt. II: Revelations''-**

**-The Necropolis, Southern Wastelands-**

**-**_**25 April 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0346 Hours**_**-**

"The brutality of Alpha Company and the Terminator Militia is unmatched...don't you agree, my love?" 'Necro' spoke, staring out over the carnage of the burning city from his balcony within the citadel, "Perhaps I misjudged the boy...he is no mere child."

Silence answered him.

"I know, Lucy...and I'm sorry...I probably will not make it out of here alive, but if I can take him down, then perhaps I can go in peace...I only pray that someone can fulfill what I promised you, forgive me..."

Silence for several moments.

"Please...do not cry...someday, we _will _be together again, I promise. I love you..." and the general returned to his chambers, readying for battle.

Alpha Company's 'Night Crew'-consisting of Cheet, Keisha, Rudolph, Terrias, Rapid, Aria, Cynder, and commanded by Spyro-stood with their backs pressed against the perimeter walls surrounding the citadel. They had spent the better part of the last two days advancing stealthily towards the citadel, resting in safe areas during the day, commencing covert operations in their approach at night. They had finally reached the end of the road several hours earlier, staying close to the forested park that encompassed Mabao's palace to avoid sight from _Maxian _soldiers moving to and from the palace. Now, with the sky illuminated with fire and smoke and the tracer bullets of anti-aircraft, accompanied with the low rumble of approaching thunder, they were upon their destination. Their backs against the smooth, stone wall, they carefully navigated the narrow ledges around the exterior of the precipice upon which the palace sat, trying to find a way to get into the walls. The gates were too heavily defended to storm, with _Maxian _anti-armor and anti-aircraft littering the yard beyond, and more anti-armor teams and snipers, with some rumored mortars, having defensive positions upon the palatial rooftops, and the ledges around the walls were far too narrow and precarious to move anything through.

Aside from the thunder, the world was eerily silent, even with the battle occurring miles away. Now on the west side, away from the road connecting the rest of the city to the south-facing gate, they moved a little more freely, and a little more comfortably, knowing that there was no way the _Maxia _could see them. E. had fried most of the city's power, and the cliff was too tall and steep for any forces down in the forest below to spot Alpha Company creepy along the edge. When they spotted a part of the wall marked by a large crack cutting through its face, Alpha Company moved further ahead to allow Terrias through, and the snivy quickly scampered up the wall using the crevice, Rapid right on his heels. Upon reaching the top of the wall, they quickly and silently neutralized two patrolling guards, signing for the rest of Alpha Company to start advancing back towards the gate, since the quadrupedal members were unable to scale the wall. Rapid and Aria worked together to help Cheet climb, needing the cheetah's superior speed and strength to neutralize the _Maxian _emplacements on the ground and clear room for the rest of the Night Crew to move in once they opened the gates.

Crouching upon the walls and observing the field before them, Terrias began in a low whisper, "All right, each of us need to take one of the positions...Four guns, four of us. Two of those guns are anti-armor, the other two are anti-aircraft. Following that, gonna need Cheet and Keisha to work together to get to the gatehouse and open the doors for the rest of our boys, you two are fast enough to outrun the positions on the roof. Once we clear out the artillery, Spyro and Cynder will get to work on clearing out the guys on the roof, while the rest of us on the ground work to breach the doors. Once inside, we're to fight our way through the _Maxian _guards-and I'm expecting quite a few Elite Ops—and to the presidential suite where we can finally confront and assassinate Mabao.

"Sounds too easy..." Keisha replied with a chuckle.

"Wouldn't count on it," Rapid replied, "Don't overestimate the enemy...that was our mistake when Alex, Cheet, and I took on the LKA headquarters..." Cheet, crouching beside Rapid, only nodded in response, saying nothing.

"Everybody understand the plan?" Terrias asked, and the others all responded with affirming nods, "Fuckin' sexy...let's move out!"

The four of them quietly dropped down into the well-maintained villa beyond, seeking cover behind one of the many hedgerows snaking throughout. They hugged the hedges as they raced forward, pausing at the edge and peeking out to view the _Maxian _emplacements. "All right..." Terrias began, "On my mark..." he waited for several moments while hulking guards, definitely Elite Ops, moved passed them before ordering, "Go!"

From out of nowhere, Cheet and Keisha both launched upon the anti-aircraft emplacements, furthest from the gates but closest to their position, quickly mauling the startled _Maxian _crews while simultaneously dodging the surprised charges and gunfire of the surrounding guards. Terrias and Rapid both claimed the two anti-armor emplacements, also closest to them, but also closest to the gates. Using the guns themselves for cover from the snipers on the roof, knowing that they were safe from the mortars and anti-armor teams...for now...they gunned down the crews and encircling guards, setting charges on the nearby magazines and running to cover as they detonated. With all four guns destroyed, Cheet and Keisha sprinted towards the gatehouse, crashing through the window and swiftly neutralizing the guards inside. A few minutes later, the gates slowly opened with a mechanical groan, allowing the rest of the Night Crew to race inside to various cover.

Once the Night Crew was inside the perimeter, the gates closed once more to prevent reinforcements from ambushing them from the back, and Cheet and Keisha raced out to rejoin the fight. Spyro and Cynder immediately took to the skies, vanishing over the central building in the villa, the palatial citadel, and the rest of the Night Crew fought their way towards the building, cutting through _Maxian _officers and a few _Maxian _Elites. Within an hour, they had reached the palace's doors, storming them into the grand foyer beyond, where they encountered more defensive positions crudely established inside.

"Spread out!" Spyro ordered, racing inside with Cynder on his tail, "Each of you break into groups of two and take on a wing! Watch each others' backs! We need to clear out every single square inch of this place, our objective is to kill Mabao, and if possible, 'Necro' and the Tartarus Unit! Rudolph, Rapid, I'll need you two to wait outside by the gates and watch for reinforcements, let us know if anyone else comes around and be ready to open the gates when the rest of our boys get here! For the rest of us, let's move out!"

With Rudolph and Rapid racing outside back into the night, making their way back towards the gatehouse, green smoke grenades spraying into the air around the perimeter to mark the sectors seized by the Terminator forces, the rest of the Night Crew split up from the foyer, taking on various halls branching out. Three halls spread from the foyer: one to the north, one to the east, and one to the south. Their initial objective was simply to clear out the bottom floor and start moving up towards the upper floors, but they all hoped to receive reinforcements before advancing. They had confirmation that the presidential quarters were on the top floor, and they knew, without a doubt, that the further they climbed, the thicker the resistance would become.

For the rest of the night, they worked on clearing out every corner of the building, every hall, every room, everywhere the _Maxia _could hide was searched and cleared out. Finding the elevators on the east and west wings collapsed and out of commission, a precautionary measure took upon by the _Maxia _to cut off the approaches to the top floor where Mabao resided, both teams: Terrias and Keisha on the east and Aria and Cheet on the west, were forced to make their ways back to the foyer, moving forward down the north hall to aide Spyro and Cynder. At the end of the hall, the two groups found themselves on a balcony surrounding a large, open assembly hall, resembling something like a legislative floor. Spyro and Cynder had split up here, each taking and struggling through one side of the balcony, hoping to make a full circle around the chamber. Immediately beside the entrance into the north wing from the balcony, staircases connected the balcony to the actual floor itself, crawling with _Maxian _defensive positions that dogged the Terminator forces on the balcony above. Across the floor on the north wall was a set of cherry-stained oak, double doors that likely went further into the upper reaches of the building, maybe even leading to the rooftops.

Once more, the teams split up, joining the separated dragons on clearing out the balcony. Once both sides rejoined at the north end of the encircling balcony, they made their way back to the entrance to the north hall, taking the stairs down onto the legislative floor itself, where they made for any cover they could, support pillars for the balcony, bookcases, even desks and chairs, creeping closer towards the doubled doors at the far end of the hall. It was the only place where Mabao could have gone. "Keep pushing forward!" Spyro spat, "We can do this guys! They won't last forever!"

As the sun rose slowly in the air above the burning city, Alex's Day Crew rode a friendly tank column towards Mabao's villa. The road between the city and the villa at its heart, surrounded by a forested community park that somehow survived the intense heat of the _Curtain_, and probably the only piece left of the original DC area, had, by this point, been fully captured and secured by Terminator soldiers. Upon reaching the resident's walls, the gates opened to allow the column through and into the captured perimeter beyond. The immediate area past the gates had been hastily converted into a sort of staging post, allowing soldiers to resupply and vehicles to restock and refuel. "Where's Spyro's team at?" Alex asked, approaching a Terminator captain.

"They need your help in the citadel, guess the _Maxia _have 'em pinned down."

Alex nodded in confirmation and signed for his group to jog towards the large, burning building at the center of the villa, the largest one in the entire perimeter. Upon reaching the circular, newly-paved asphalt driveway in front of the building, Alex was greeted by patrolling guards and allowed into the guarded doors heading inside. The foyer was dark and foreboding, patches of fire burned here and there, parts of the ceiling and walls had collapsed, and the bodies of executed _Maxian _prisoners were lined up in the hall. The Commander was guided by more friendly guards down the north corridor, directly opposite the entrance, where he noticed the presence of friendly soldiers thickened, ready to shoot anything that tried to come at them. Around him, in various rooms connected to the hall, _Maxian _prisoners were beaten, tortured, interrogated, and ultimately executed, their bodies dragged back to the foyer. Upon reaching the legislative floor, he spied the Night Crew pinned down near the center of the chamber. Although the ground-level balcony was secure, _Maxian _snipers and HMG nests pestered the friendly forces down below, and enemy soldiers continued to pour down through the double doors connecting to the upper floors, including the upper balconies and the roof, according to blueprints obtained by Elliot.

The Day Crew split up to take various vantage points around the balcony, allowing them to have a clear view of the majority of the chamber. Here, they worked together to eliminate the _Maxian _soldier pinning their allies down, and while other Terminator soldiers kept their weapons trained on the doors heading to the roof to cut down any enemy troops that funneled through, Alex led the Day Crew down onto the floor, carving their way towards the Night Crew, finally getting a break from the consistent fire.

"About damn time you showed up!" Terrias chuckled, "We were just about to run dry."

"Yeah, well we aren't finished yet," Alex replied, popping his neck muscles, "You guys got enough ammo for the final push?"

"Worse comes to worse," Spyro replied, "Sure there's more than enough _Maxia _here to scavenge some weapons and ammo...think we're close to the finish?"

"Mabao's got nowhere left to go but up," the Commander replied, nodding towards the doors, "You guys ready or do you need a few to catch your breaths?"

"If I rest, I'm going to fall asleep," Terrias growled, picking up ammunition for his SPAS-12 from a fallen _Maxia _soldier, "Let's go."

The reunited Alpha Company sprinted towards the doors, and after tossing a flashbang grenade through to ensure that no one had a chance to shoot them, they charged through, moving up a series of stone stairs heading up to the balcony just above the ground floor. They fought through both this and the third and fourth balconies before reaching the floor above the legislative hall.

Up here, they found themselves in another residential part, likely where the senators slept. Tearing through these apartments, it seemed that they had been evacuated, and Alex worried if Mabao had also managed to escape. There was more than enough chaos in the past week to enable the president to slip away from the city relatively unchallenged. After continuing their upward approach from the residential floor, they arrived at yet _another _legislative hall, this one marked by three balconies, with a shattered glass dome marking the ceiling. This part of the building seemed to have received the most shelling, as it was incredibly decrepit, large sections of the floor had collapsed onto the senate floor beneath them, where they had previously been pinned down, the dome was almost entirely gone, with only supports remaining, and fires burned bright and hot in patches of rubble and debris.

_Maxian _presence was surprisingly light here, but there were snipers and anti-armor crews firing upon them from the upper balconies, cutting down many of their forces in the process. "Take out those fucking goons!" Alex hissed, attempting to snipe at the _Maxian _soldiers with his AK47, equipped with an ACOG scope and a laser sight. After the last of the enemy soldiers had been neutralized, a maniacal chuckle filled the air, causing the Commander's blood to run cold.

"Look who decided to show up!" a nasally voice cackled, and Alex violently looked around the balconies, eyes pressed to his scope, trying to identify the source of the voice, although the room's acoustics made it fairly difficult. The crack of a sniper rifled filled his ears and he was suddenly aware of a fierce, burning heat slicing across his cheek, sending him to the ground. He quickly scurried into cover, placing a dirty palm against his left, burning cheek. Upon pulling it away, his palm was smeared with red, the bullet had grazed him.

"Xerxes!" he growled, "Come out you cowardly son of a bitch!"

"Ooh! Somebody's got quite the mouth!" Xerxes replied, the location of his voice still unclear, "Anybody got some soap?"

A few moments later, the crack of Xerxes' sniper sounded again, the bullet striking the fallen, concrete pillar that Alex was hiding behind. He risked peering out of cover, trying to identify the man's location by the trajectory of the bullet. Finally, he identified the source of the shot as the third floor balcony, directly across from him, peering through his scope again, he could just barely make out shadowy movement along the top floor, heading right.

"Third floor! Right side!" Alex exclaimed, "Concentrate all fire up there! Now!"

Suddenly, from their left, an RPG launched from the third floor, exploding nearby, sending Alex's sense of hearing into a painful tinnitus and showering him in sharp dust and concrete debris.

"You furry sons of bitches walked right into our trap," Observer spat, "Consider this as repayment for the bullshit you pulled with the ARK!"

Through the flurry of bullets, Alex heard Xerxes cry out in pain, soon followed by a dull thud and a cry of alarm from Observer. Upon this sound, the gunfire ceased and Alex spied Observer nimbly scampering through the wrecked third floor balcony towards the right side, where Xerxes has presumably fallen.

"You bastards!" Xerxes howled, near tears, "I'll get you for this! I'll FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"_ENOUGH_!" a powerful voice rang out, and Alex squeezed his eyes shut, swearing beneath his breath, "Observer! Xerxes! Your chopper is ready, Mabao wants to see you promptly."

"But..."

"You've been relieved of duty," 'Necro' hissed, sadistic joy tinting his tone, "Congratulations, you faggots fucked up one too many times..."

"How dare you!"

"C'mon Xerxes," Observer growled, all three of the characters still unseen, their presence known only by their voices and the scampering on the floors above, "They won't get past him!"

Alex quickly scampered out of his cover inside of the room, making his way back to where the rest of his allies were hiding just outside the door. Several minutes later, they could hear footsteps walking nearby, and a voice calling out, "Alex...why won't you say hi?"

Reluctantly, Alex reentered the room, his AK47 trained upon 'Necro', standing tall and firm in the very center of the room, his chin raised up to the air, a grin on his face. He wasn't wearing the armor that he had during his and the Commander's last encounter in New Alexandria, instead he was clad in a simple, standard United States Army officer's uniform. At his side he held a first generation Colt Single Action Army revolver in his right hand, while his left wielded a rapier, and he nodded towards the Commander, "I propose a duel, man-to-man."

"Put the gun away and we'll see..."

With a shrug, 'Necro' slipped the revolver back in the holster at his waist, withdrawing another rapier from his belt and crossing them before him, kneeling his head forward and glaring at Alex from beneath his lowered eyes with a sly grin. Slowly, Alex lowered his AK47, leaning it against a fallen pillar and approaching the general, withdrawing his own dual longswords from their sheathes at his waist.

"I must say," the general began, "There is a certain respect in a man who learns the ways of a sword. It is an ancient skill, nearly as old as man himself, and it carries with it a certain weight in honor and merit. Only cowards hide solely behind their projectile weapons, where they can safely attack their foe with little to no danger to themselves. It takes a real man, with real courage, to stand face-to-face with his opponent, upon equal grounds. In that regard, you _do _have my respect Commander Vaughn. It's a shame that your insatiable bloodlust clouds your judgment, I've seen how you win a war. There is no honor in your mode of combat, no respect, no mercy. You destroy everything that you oppose, your forces are like locusts upon a crop. Those men out there that you so brutally slaughtered? They deserved it, the _Maxia _are ruthless and relentless...even though you are no better for doing the same as they fled and ran...but the civilians, the innocents..." he shook his head, "That is unforgivable."

"Every man we let free is a future opponent," Alex growled, "I'm not taking any chances."

'Necro' grinned, "You overestimate Mabao's influence over people. The _Maxia _are not infinite, they will _never _be infinite, and those men and women that you slaughtered while they tried to escape...do you _really _think they'll answer Mabao's call to action? They've already resisted it once."

"Like I said, I don't take chances."

"Is that what Plastro taught you? Or was it...perhaps...Zack?"

Alex stiffened at the name, heart sinking.

'Necro' caught this, continuing, "It was him, wasn't it? Your old friend? Your mentor? Your brother?"

Alex bared his teeth in disgust, "You don't know what you're talking about!" he hissed, "You were never in my position!"

"Perhaps not," 'Necro' continued, as calm and unfazed as ever, "But regardless, that still doesn't forgive your actions."

"How about we let our blades do the talking, huh?" Alex chuckled menacingly.

"Fair enough," 'Necro' replied, grinning widely, "But first..." and in a flash of heat and light, he encircled the entire area within which they stood in a ring of fire. Alex's forces cried out in alarm, charging forward and firing towards the ring, but as the bullets struck, the flames only flared, the bullets never making it through.

"Alex!" Cynder cried.

"You lying bastard!" Alex roared, charging towards 'Necro' who eerily and nimbly side-stepped out of the way.

"Nonsense," the general replied, with a laugh, "I'm only leveling the playing field, keeping you...and them...away from temptation. This fight will just be between you and me, man-to-man. I do hope you've learned a little more since our last encounter...you held your own for quite some time...but ultimately, not long enough. Your tactics were predictable and amateur, I really do hope that your skill has improved..." and readying his twin rapiers, he roared, "_En garde!_"

Alex evaded a lunge from 'Necro', countering with a slash which the general proceeded to duck away from. The general then proceeded to attack with his _own _slash, which Alex then parried and attempted to riposte, only for 'Necro' to jump back away from.

"So...you _have _gotten better," he chuckled, "This pleases me, perhaps I won't regret having to kill you."

"I assure you, it'll be the other way around...and here's a secret," Alex grinned maliciously, "I won't regret it at all."

'Necro' sobered, "I know you won't, a human life means nothing to you."

"Only yours."

"I could say otherwise, from what I've seen."

As they continued their fight, lasting for several minutes, both parties began to feel exhaustion from the aggressive combat. As 'Necro' began to show the ends of his stamina, Alex's tactics became much more aggressive, and the general found it difficult to hold his own against the furious boy's unrelenting assault.

"I am only trying to teach you a lesson...!" he managed, throwing the Commander off of him and stepping back, ready to defend if attacked, but catching his breath.

"Why won't you just shut up and die!" Alex roared, moving in for another barrage of attacks which the general couldn't hold his own against. Eventually, the Commander had managed to rip through the last of the _Maxian _general's endurance, and with several swift slashes across his legs, the general, with a cry of pain, hit the ground onto his knees, exhausted. Alex crossed his blades around 'Necro''s neck, and the general only snarled, glaring towards him.

With a sad chuckle, the general said, "You know...I was wrong about you. You're not a child...you're a monster...just like the _Maxia_, just like him...just like the Shade King..."

"Any last words?" Alex snarled.

"Lucy, my love..." 'Necro' sighed unhappily, "Forgive me...I have failed you..."

In a swift motion, the Commander finally separated his blades, decapitating his opponent. Upon 'Necro''s death, the flames encircling him instantly extinguished, and Alex collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. His comrades ran up to him, Cynder hugging him and questioning if he was all right.

"I'm fine..." Alex replied, exhausted, "Tired...but fine."

"What now?" Terrias asked, "Mabao's gone..."

Alex smiled grimly, "Not sure..." and he added, "I say we blow this fucking place to kingdom come."

"What happened to trying to capture it?" Simba asked.

"Decided that it would be a much bigger message to Mabao if we leveled this place to the ground," Alex walked away, tapping his earpiece, "Elliot, how risky do you think it'd be to fire the _Ring_?"

As Alpha Company stepped outside into the city, they watched as, all around them, friendly soldiers frantically packed up and prepared to move out of the city. Elliot had given them three hours to get clear of the city before he activated the _Ring_, justifying this that scouts had identified _Maxian _reinforcements coming from surrounding areas, and unable to give any more time to pack things up and clear the area before the reinforcements arrived. "How's everything going with Beta Company?" Alex asked, running over to Piermont, stretching and yawning.

"We've lost a few wings, but that's to be expected, rest of us are on standby to put the _Curtain _back up once everyone goes through...how much time do we have?" 

"Less than three hours to get out of the area before the _Ring_'s activation."

"Holy shit! Cutting it a little close?"

"A metric shit-ton of _Maxian_ reinforcements are on their way, he gave us as much time as he could."

"Status on Mabao?"

"Got away, so did the Tartarus Unit."

"Son of a..."

"But we killed 'Necro'," Alex interrupted, "So that's one less thing we need to worry about."

"Yeah? 'Cept that the ringleader is Mabao, so he'll just reorganize everyone and put somebody else in charge! Not everyone is as merciful as 'Necro' or as shitty at their jobs as the Tartarus Unit!"

"That's another problem for another time," the Commander replied, climbing onto his mount's back, "Let's hightail it out of here."

"Not gonna stick around to ensure everybody gets out safely?"

"They can take care of themselves."

"Thought this operation was supposed to end the war? It's a failure, man!"

"Technical success," Alex replied, "Yeah we failed to kill Mabao and end the war but...we did well enough."

"Elliot was right," Piermont growled, "We shouldn't have jumped in so fast. I don't care what you say, our two main objectives failed, this op was a failure."

"C'mon, try a little optimism here, we did pretty damn good. 'Necro''s dead, we wasted the _Maxia_'s capital, and we took down Christ knows how many of their numbers in the process. The successes outweigh the failures here."

"We leaving or not?" Terrias interrupted, appearing beside them, mounted upon Arian, his beast, "Cause if you wanna sit here and jack off to the scenery, be my guest, but I'm gonna go on ahead."

Alex grunted in response, then nodded towards the Commander's Wing, "Let's go."

One by one, they rose into the air, rocketing forward, heading north. The grounded members of Alpha Company followed closely at their heels, and around them, Alex watched as his comrades vanished into teleportation spheres, warping themselves away from the city.

"Hold tight," Piermont told his rider, and with a final, victorious roar and one final look towards the burning Necropolis behind him, he, too, vanished into a teleporation sphere.


	37. Chapter XXXVI: Retaliation

_**Chapter XXXVI**_**:**

**-''Retaliation''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**30 April 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0617 Hours**_**-**

Alex's eyes shot open, the Commander having been awakened from nightmares once again. He tried to sit up, finding a heavy weight resting on his chest, and looking down, he only smiled, gently petting the sleeping Cynder's head, her scales soft and warm to the touch. As he lay in bed, only aware of the dragoness' warm breath across his bare chest, he tried to remember what had awakened him. There had been a harsh, corpse-like voice, taunting him from the darkness, and he remembered that he had seen a silhouetted figure standing at the foot of his bed.

He had been able to identify the creature, but upon awakening, he couldn't recall what exactly he had seen. All he knew was that a heavy feeling settled inside of his heart, and he knew that something bad was coming. 'Necro' had been the calm before the storm...and he couldn't help but feel like the _Maxia _were about to completely release their restraints. He gently squirmed his way out from beneath his dragonian mate, throwing on some clothes before climbing out of bed and creeping towards his balcony, quietly slipping out into the predawn morning. He squeezed his eyes shut against an oncoming flashback, hoping it would pass before he succumbed to it, and just as it was about to engulf him, he was snapped back to reality by Cynder's gentle paw being placed upon his back, "Are you okay, Alex?"

He looked towards the she-dragon, shaking his head.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure..." he replied, "I've got a very bad feeling..."

"About what?"

"The war...I feel like _we _poked the sleeping beast...and now we're gonna face the true wrath of the _Maxia_."

She nuzzled him affectionately, "Hey...don't worry, all right? I'm sure we'll be fine."

"If only I believed you, Cyn..."

She hugged him, "We _will _be fine, if we could survive 'Necro', Mabao, and the Necropolis, I think we can take whatever the _Maxia _throw at us. Don't worry, lover, okay?"

Silence fell between them as Alex looked towards the ever-present _Fiernes Curtain_, and Cynder joined him, standing beside the Commander, her tail wrapped affectionately around his bare legs. After several minutes of silence, Alex said, voice small, "I thought...I truly thought that _Operation: Armageddon _would end the war...but now I'm not so sure. We haven't seen the _Maxia _for awhile, true...but there's just...there's something in the air...can you feel it?"

"I can't help but feel that you're worrying for no reason," Cynder replied, "I don't think we're done with the _Maxia_, but we still struck a major blow to them. Even if they come out of this guns blazing and furious at us, they're weaker than they've ever been before."

"You know...'Necro' mentioned the Shade King...same thing that contact was talking about when he was killed...wonder what that is, or _who_."

"Probably just another soldier, like the Tartarus Unit or 'Necro' himself."

"It's this Shade King fellow that's got me worried, Cyn," Alex sighed, "I just have a bad feeling about it...generally my gut is right."

"Well...at least try not to worry about it _too _much, okay, sexy? Not like there's a whole lot you can do. Just be ready in case something _does _happen, but hope for the better."

Alex nodded in response, petting her head, "Roger."

"We'll be fine..." she said, nuzzling him once again, "Don't worry...we'll be fine..."

"Still making quite a ruckus," Elliot laughed as Alpha Company entered the command center. The general himself was sitting on a desk, flicking through channels on the projected television screen on the wall, showing news footage from across the country, "_Maxia_'s both pissed and terrified at once, Mabao's in hiding, and the Tartarus Unit has been disbanded. May have failed the main objective, but goddamn you sent the _Maxia _into 'oh shit' mode."

"Good...maybe they'll learn not to fuck with us as much," Alex scowled.

"Wouldn't count on it, they're stupid like that, especially now that 'Necro''s dead. He was the best thing they had, now he's gone."

"Any word on the Shade King?" the Commander asked, taking a seat in the chair beside Elliot, Alpha sitting around him.

"Negative, still can't find anything outside of a few references here and there. Whoever the guy is, they're going out of their way to keep him unknown. Wonder when we'll see the big reveal. More conversation about the character _has _popped up since 'Necro' fell, but nothing aside from that."

"Not gonna lie...I've got a bad feeling about this whole 'Shade King' bullshit. Something's not right, can't help but feel that there's real trouble on the horizon."

"Vaughn, there's _always _been trouble on the horizon, 'specially since the war began."

"Well, yes, but I mean...I can't help but feel that 'Necro' was the calm before the storm. The _Maxia_ _may_ be without a capital, and Mabao _may_ have lost a massive chunk of his goons...but things still seem kinda bleak."

"Listen, boy-o. If we survived 'Necro', we can survive this sumbitch."

Alex shook his head, "I'll take your word for it, I guess."

"Try to be a little optimistic, huh?"

"Had this discussion with him earlier," Cynder chuckled, "But...Alex will be Alex."

"No shit," Elliot scowled, "Anyway, the only real update we've had on the _Maxia _is a promise they've made to the American public for a 'swift and effective retaliatory attack' due to our actions in Necropolis and during the Southern March."

"Great...they won't learn," Piermont spat.

"'Course they won't!" Elliot said, laughing heartily, "Sheep blindly following the shepherd into the fire! We'll keep you updated on that promise, but so far they've had nothing to show for it. Most likely it's just Mabao's goons trying to calm the panicking public that fear they're next to face our wrath, or at least some kinda bullshit like that, hell I dunno."

"Well, worse comes to worse, we'll only have to deal with the war for like six to seven more months," Alex sighed, "How is the whole presidential race going anyway?"

"Dunno," Elliot replied, "Haven't been paying attention...other more important things to worry about than a bunch of airheads making a bunch of bullshit, sweet-nothing promises to seduce the public into voting for their fat cat asses."

"Fair enough."

As they left the command center and into the sunlit military district, heading back towards the walled, Victorian-style mansion of Club Camelot sitting upon the border between the northeastern residential district and the military district, Spyro noticed that Cynder was trailing at the rear of the group and appeared to be exhausted. He held back until she had caught up to him, and he asked, "How are you feeling? Everything okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine, just tired."

"What? Alex keep you up all night?" he chuckled to himself.

"Yes, but not how you might think..." and she stopped in place, pulling him aside, "Nightmares..."

"Malefor?"

"No...Alex," she sighed, "Nightmares of him completely unhinging and becoming a bloodthirsty killer...a homicidal psychopath."

"Cyn..."

"Seeing what he did during _Operation: Armageddon_...yeah they were the enemy, but that was...it was frightening. You know me, I've seen a lot of crazy stuff in my time...but this was something else."

"You're afraid of him?"

"No," she scoffed, "'Course not...but there were some valid points in that dream. Think about it, Spyro...we don't know much of his history, he nor Piermont nor anyone here will tell us anything about it, he's always so distant from everyone, and then we saw what kind of man he really is during the attack on the Necropolis. I didn't want to believe his claims that he was nothing more than a leashed animal...but now I'm starting to wonder. What kind of person is even _capable _of coldly slaughtering unarmed men, women, and children without so much as batting an eye? _Nothing _fazed him, he kept that cold, somber expression through _all _of it."

"Sure didn't feel this way when you left to make love to him last night...besides, I'm sure he was acting out of defense, in a fight between them or us, who do you think he'd choose?"

"It was a minor nuisance at first...and then I had the dream. I didn't want to get on his bad side...and yes, I was horny...but I sure as hell wasn't anticipating having nightmares of him."

"Well, in part, I can understand his rage. The _Maxia were _responsible for nuking New Alexandria, for the deaths of countless numbers of our soldiers, and yes, even countless civilians in ops where the Tartarus Unit were involved...it was revenge for all of that, a taste of their own medicine."

"You're supporting him!?" she exclaimed, aghast, "That wasn't revenge! Those innocents didn't do anything wrong! They were trying to flee!"

"You can't be too careful," Spyro replied sadly, "We're in the middle of a war, Cyn...you know Mabao, he's more than willing to put his soldiers in civilian uniforms if it will give him an advantage over us. Alex was just trying to be careful. Do I approve of what he did? No, not necessarily, but I can see why he'd do it."

"I don't believe this..." Cynder replied, shaking her head in absolute horror, "How could you say that?"

"Because it's the truth," the dragon replied coldly, "As unfortunate as it is..." and he continued walking towards the group, now having built quite a distance from them.

Cynder followed, "I guess you're right," she sighed submissively, "I'm just...afraid he'll turn on us, too."

"Why would he? He's our friend."

"Yes, but I've seen what war does to people...it can change a man, especially when cornered. Even the most civilized of men will turn into beasts in an act of self-preservation when they see no way out. I'm afraid that Alex will see us as a threat for some reason...I don't want to have keep my guard up around him. I want to be able to trust him, to have our moments together be one of the few times I can safely drop my defenses. He's my friend, but I also love him, and I don't want to be afraid. I'm tired of living in fear..." she hanged her head in silence, "That's all I've ever really done."

"Hey..." and Spyro nuzzled her affectionately, "Lighten up, okay? It was just a nightmare...I have them, too, product of our daily stresses and struggles. I'd be more concerned about a man who, even through war, never experiences nightmares, and I've seen Alex's head while he sleeps, the things he witnesses when he closes his eyes," the dragon slowly shook his head, "Every night he's living in his own personal hell, but I've noticed something else as well. When he's in your company, when you're laying in his arms, his mind is clear, dark, and numb. You're the _last _person here he'd want to hurt...don't worry."

She kissed his mouth, pressing her forehead to his, "Thank you."

Spyro smiled, "No problem...everything's A-OK for now, stop worrying."

"I love you..."

He kissed her in return, "I love you, too."

"...Although President Barry Mabao is in hiding following the devastating assault on Washington DC, advisers close to him have confirmed that they have deployed a response to the Terminator attack, and that the militia, led by former child soldier Alex Vaughn, will be dealt with shortly..."

"Man, turn that shit off!" Piermont scowled, in his human form, sitting on the leather couch and currently engrossed in carving a block of wood with his combat knife, "Don't wanna hear that ugly bitch's fat fuckin' mouth."

Rapid, sitting in a black leather recliner and reading from a Bible in his lap, idly changed the channel from Fox News to a crime drama television series.

"What do you think this response is?" Spyro asked, currently tangled together on the love seat with his mate.

"Don't know, don't really care. Mabao can suck my big, hairy cock for all I care, that's _my _response," Piermont replied, still forging a shape out of the cylindrical block of pine.

"Whatever it is," Alex replied coolly, reading _1984 _by George Orwell, "We'll be ready."

Unknown to him, both Cynder and Spyro cast him uneasy glances before returning their attention to the television, cuddling even tighter together.

"Spyro...come here," Cynder called, slightly opening the bathroom door and nodding for her mate to join her.

Confused, the purple dragon shut off the television and hopped off their bed, trotting towards the bathroom and slinking inside. As the she-dragon closed the door behind him, Spyro asked, "What's up?"

"I wanna show you something..." and he noticed that she was acting strangely, as if there was something she wanted to say. She threw apart the curtains of the bath tub, slipping inside, and Spyro joined her.

She nodded down, smiling lightly, and Spyro turned to face what she wanted him to. On the floor of the bathtub, laying in a splattered puddle of light yellow, was a pregnancy test, reading positive.

Alarmed, the dragon turned to face his proud mate, nodding happily.

"Is it accurate?" Spyro began, in shock, "I-I mean...it's a human test but I..."

"Fox said it would work," the she-dragon replied, barely able to contain her joy, and she affectionately rubbed her belly with one coal-black paw, "You're going to be a father."

The next day, Alpha Company stormed into the command center, Alex at its helm, "Elliot, what the _hell _ is going on?"

"We've figured out the _Maxia_'s plan," the general replied bitterly, standing in front of the projected television screen on the wall, volume muted.

"What's going on?" Alex repeated.

The general turned to face them, wearing a frown, "The _Maxia_'s been bombarding the countryside with some kind of airship fortress. Worse part is that they've got the damn thing protected by a lotta choppers and fighters.

"Any casualties?"

"Well, at least fifteen towns across the midwest United States north of the _Curtain_ have been burned to the ground, and there have been no evacuations called."

"I don't believe it..." Cynder replied in shock, "I knew the Tartarus Unit was capable of such violence...but I didn't think Mabao would be."

"Well surprise, honey. Hell do you think those faggots learned it from? _Grand Theft Auto_?"

"How quickly can you organize a wing to take on the ship?" Alex asked.

"Quickly as needs be, Vaughn. Though you should know they're not directly attacking New Alexandria. In fact, if they _are _making their way towards the city, they're taking the scenic route."

Alex smirked, "This isn't for the Necropolis...this is for the civvies..."

All eyes in the room turned to face the Commander, who's smirk dissolved first into a frown, then a furious snarl. "Then you definitely need to be on the front to take these bastards down," Elliot growled, "Since _you're _the one that got all trigger-happy with the locals."

"Oh...I'll take them down all right," Alex hissed, "Elliot, get a wing of dragons to intercept the ship and hold it off until we get there," then addressing Alpha Company, "Guess what gents, anyone who's not in the _Commander's Wing _has earned themselves a day off."

The _Commander's Wing _emerged above the rural United States a few miles out from the last reported location of Mabao's retaliation force. The world was illuminated in the fiery golden glow of twilight, and they could see Mabao's force in the distance, specks of black in the cloudy skies. "Clearly Mabao is more aligned with the Tartarus Unit's interests than 'Necro''s," Spyro replied bitterly, but when no one seemed to hear him over the wind, he repeated his statement over the mutual mind bank.

_Course not, _Alex replied, _'Necro' was never aligned with Mabao in the first place...in fact, I'm more inclined to believe that he was being blackmailed to help our fucked up friend in the fight against us._

_Yet you still killed him, _Piermont smirked.

_As if I really had a choice?_

_How about we pay attention to the problem at hand? _Terrias interrupted, _We can discuss this later._

The _Commander's Wing _closed the distance between themselves and Mabao's force, alarmed to see the airship. It was roughly the size of a football field, appeared to be heavily armored, and had countless cannons and autoturrets mounted around its slow-moving mass. Emblazoned on the side of the ship was _U.S.S Retaliation_, and it was flanked by dozens of gunships. It didn't take long for Mabao's troops to spot the _Commander's Wing_, and they were soon under heavy fire from the both the _Retaliation _and its escorts. Well taking evasive action to avoid the onslaught of surprisingly accurate fire, at least two other wings of friendly dragons and riders arrived on scene to help in the attack.

"Watch your ass!" Piermont roared as he commenced aileron rolls to dodge the barrage of attacks from the _Retaliation_'s onboard cannons. The _Commander's Wing_, still maintaining 'V' formation, followed his example.

"We need to get closer to that ship!" Alex spat.

"Workin' on it!" Piermont replied.

Around them, the wings of Beta Company broke formation to lure the _Retaliation_'s escorts away from the airship itself, enabling the _Commander's Wing _to get closer. Alex quickly scanned the exterior of the ship, trying to find a weakness, and after several moments, and with the ship's weapons drawing closer and closer to striking them, Alex finally ordered, "Stay low! Try to attack its belly! There's not a single inch of the ship that's not protected by armor, but there seems to be less weapons on its belly."

"You fuckin' crazy?" Piermont spat, "That's where the big guns are!"

"Yeah, but less autoturrets! Keep moving and they won't get a lock on us!"

_Why don't we attack the top? _Spyro asked telepathically.

_Looks like they've got autoturetts on the top... _Terrias replied, _Thanks, but I'd rather take my chances with the big, slow guns than dodge those quick little buggers._

"So what's your magnificent plan anyway, Alex?" Piermont asked spitefully, spitting fire towards the nearby ship.

"Keep laying onto it until we can hopefully break through its shell, then take it down from the inside out."

"Really want to jump into the fire?"

"It'll take us way too long to take it down from out here, it's too heavily armed."

"What makes you think inside is any safer?"

"The _Maxia _don't anticipate the enemy trying to shoot up the inside, and it's way easier to deal with soldiers than to deal with the guns _and _the armor on the outside."

Piermont scowled, knowing the Commander had a point, "Kayden...so how the _fuck _you planning on getting inside?"

"It's a work in progress."

"Might wanna get those gears up in your skull spinnin', cause I'm not gonna sit here and play whack-a-mole while you try to figure out what to do!"

"Deal."

The dragons all took turns trying to spew fire towards the zeppelin-like airship, but were dismayed to find that it seemed to be plated and was surprisingly resistant to the flames.

"Find a safe spot then concentrate fire on it! It won't hold up forever!"

"We've been over this, there _is _no safe spot!" Piermont growled.

"Then make one!"

As more and more of the _Retaliation_'s escorts were brought down by the attacking dragons, the enemy aircraft began to concentrate more on attacking the dragons trying to break through the ship's armor. Within half an hour, the skies were almost completely clear of all but the _Retaliation_, although the Terminator forces had not gone unscathed. At least one entire wing had been slaughtered by the _Maxian _ships, and the _Retaliation_'s defenses were tearing through the wings faster than they could arrive on scene. There were several times where the _Commander's Wing_ found themselves facing the mighty airship alone, during which they would ease up on their attacks and concentrate on avoiding the ship's defenses until more reinforcements arrived to aide them.

As the sky darkened and thunder rumbled in the distance, there was a series of explosions along the _Retaliation_'s hull, exposing a gaping breach near one of the ship's main cannons. "Down there!" Alex roared, "Pierre! Fly me down there!"

"Roger that!" Piermont replied, folding his wings and diving towards the entry point. Struggling to keep up with the ship, which was now beginning to pick up speed to try and outrun the dragons, Alex took a leap of faith off of his mount's back, across a seven foot gap, and onto the cold, steel catwalk of the airship's interior.

"They're inside!" a voice called out from the enveloping darkness, "Find and kill them!"

Alex quickly slipped his AK47 off of his back, throwing the strap around his shoulder and relieving the safety, clicking on the laser sight and pressing the ACOG scope against his eye, creeping deeper into the darkness. He blinked once, and upon opening his eyes once again, the world was illuminated in a faint green light, as if looking through a pair of dim night-vision goggles. Everything was black, but he could make out shapes outlined in neon green as he continued deeper inside. To someone looking at him, his eyes faintly shined like a cat's, revealing that he had activated his serum-granted night vision.

He saw several humanoid shapes rush towards him in the darkness, but he was quick to bring them down, continuing deeper into the bowels of the ship, pausing behind cover only long enough to reload. He heard a growl from behind him, and he quickly rotated to find a _Maxian _soldier charging towards him, wielding a combat knife. He smashed the man's hand to the back of the metal wall, dropping the knife onto the floor and breaking the man's arm before smashing his face into the wall, knocking him out. Another soldier charged him from the front, but he merely ducked beneath the lunge, grabbing and forcing the dropped combat knife deep into the man's stomach, twisting the hilt and tossing the corpse to the ground behind him.

The ship quaked and rumbled beneath the attacking dragons, but Alex continued forward, mind numb and clear as he concentrated on safely navigating the darkness and killing anything in his way. Upon finding a staircase, he quickly raced up, killing four waiting soldiers with several quick bursts of his AK47. He crept into cover behind a nearby barrel, loading a fresh clip into his assault rifle before swinging out again, howling and tackling a soldier running towards him, ripping the combat knife from the man's belt and forcing it through the bottom of his jaw.

Kicking open a door, Alex raced into one of the ship's engine rooms. He ripped grenades from his waist, pulling the pins and tossing several into the room before closing the door, moving further down. He heard a muffled explosion and one of the strong vibrations of the engines beneath him cut out, briefly feeling weightless as the ship began to nose-dive. Eventually, the ship righted itself and he continued deeper in, finding another engine room. He shot this one up before making his way back to the breach, telepathically calling, _Pierre, better be ready to come pick me up, she's about to come down._

_Already there._

Upon returning to the gun deck, he strategically placed the last of his grenades, making a run for the breach as the magazines began to explode around him. Finally, he leaped out through the hole, free-falling several feet until Piermont zoomed by beneath him, catching him and flying ahead. The two turned to looked towards the falling _Retaliation_, Piermont cackling in wild laughter, "Gonna have to try harder than _THAT _Mabao!"

The _Commander's Wing _joined the hovering Piermont, watching as the machine crashed into the ground. "Shit..." Terrias began, "I was hoping it'd be more fun. Wasn't expecting a quickie."

"We'll keep an eye on the _Maxia_'s activity, see if anything else crops up."

"If this was Mabao's retaliation plan, he's pretty damn desperate," Spyro sighed.

"Not like the _Maxia _have much to their name right now," Terrias grinned, "We did completely obliterate their capital."

"Let's report back to Elliot," Alex replied, "Mission complete."

"You called for me?" a harsh, hoarse, corpse-like whisper spoke from the darkness.

Mozart's _The Marriage of Figaro _playing over his stereo, President Barry Mabao sipped from his cup of herbal tea, placing it back on the saucer and spinning his chair around to face his visitor, completely obscured in shadow. The only light in the presidential bunker shined above the president, the rest of the room dimly lit, "Yes, I did..." the president grinned, "Are you ready for the details of your first assignment, Commander?"

"Ready as always," the voice replied, "I'm eager to kill Alex...to avenge what he did to me."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves..." Mabao chuckled, his tone friendly, "We have some preparations we must do first."

"What is your wish?"

Mabao grinned, "Allow me to explain..."


	38. Chapter XXXVII: The Enemy of my Enemy

_**Chapter XXXVII**_**:**

**-''The Enemy of my Enemy''-**

**-Outside Redemption, Nebraska-**

**-**_**05 May 2012**_**-**

**-**_**1418 Hours**_**-**

"_Oh, Alex...my love..."_

"Hey, Alex...you still with us?"

The Commander started, as if in a trance, and he anxiously looked around, spying Cynder sitting on the Tiger II's hull, wearing a concerned expression. Alex himself was manning the M240 fixed atop the turret, gazing off into the encompassing Southern Wastelands, caked in ash.

"Yeah," he replied, lost in thought, "Just...thinking."

"Are you feeling okay?"

He nodded, "Well enough, I suppose."

"This place is kinda lonely, huh?" the she-dragon continued, looking around.

"Hard to believe that this place used to be bustling and full of life and nature...now look," Piermont chuckled grimly, sipping from his canteen. The air surrounding them reeked of burnt wood, the world was lit in a dim, sickly gray color. The only sounds to their ears was the distant roar of the _Fiernes __Curtain_ and the occasional breath of wind. Occasionally, they'd pass by one of the few remaining rivers, dried up into a small stream and painted black with ash and soot. As they neared the shantytown of Redemption, one of several settlements that had been established in and around the Southern Wastelands once the cities had dried up and died off too much to sustain life, they would pass by mountains of ash, and an occasional animal skeleton punching through the thick coat on the ground.

Still, three years after its establishment, Alex could not get over the amount of damage that the _Curtain _had done to the wastes in its shadow. "Damn..." the Commander sighed.

"Well done, bro!" Piermont laughed, "Add 'destroyed the world' to your list of achievements, if you haven't already."

"This joke's already been made," Spyro sighed.

"Fuck off."

"We're entering the Wild West," Terrias began, "Everyone stay on your guard."

"No shit, Snake," Piermont scowled.

"Although it _is _a good place to setup some ambushing points, A: I don't think the _Maxia _have the numbers right now, and B: there is no way they can survive for very long down here," Alex added, "Although Terrias is right, stay on your toes."

"Right," Spyro began as they reached the outskirts of Redemption, "What are we looking for again?"

"Band of _Maxian _soldiers, loyal to 'Necro' but abandoned and left to die following _Operation: Armageddon_," Alex replied, "They want protection in exchange for entrance into our ranks."

"Ironic, the same people who wanted us gone and out of their lives now cry for our protection," Spyro sighed.

"I agree, but we're gonna consider it, cause we aren't dicks."

"Well, _most _of us ain't anyway," Piermont grinned, "Right, Alex?"

"Piss off, Pierre. Anyway, Mabao basically just left these people to die and they're caught in the crossfire between opposing forces vying to fill the vacancy left by 'Necro'."

"I thought that's what the 'Shade King' was doing?" Spyro replied.

"Apparently not, now stay frosty, we're nearing the city."

Silence hanged in the air as they rolled into the empty, pillaged town. Burning Bush Network, a right-wing news station based in Dallas, beamed over the radio inside of the command tank, with the host, Glenn Buckworth, going on one of his notorious rants, and this, along with the faint roar of the _Curtain_ and the drone of the tank's engines provided the only ambiance in the ghost town, "Listen up, America, President Mabao and the Terminator Militia are tearing this once great nation to pieces. It's time to take a stand against them and take back our country. It's time to wake up, America..."

"YO!" Piermont scowled, "Turn that shit off!"

The volume was abruptly lowered, although Alex could still hear the program, albeit faintly. He lowered his eyes to the iron sights of the fixed machine gun, panning across his surroundings, alert for the slightest movement.

Although trying to maintain his focus on his environment, the Commander could not shake a suspicious name from the front of his mind..._Ruby_.

For a second, he wondered if it was any way related to the unknown female presence that had resided in his mind, the one that he had hallucinated and had accused of him leaving her to die and suffer. Remembering that he hadn't heard from or felt her presence since the incident, he once more found himself hoping that she was alive.

_Ruby..._

A name that was sweet on his lips, the name of a woman that he couldn't help but find himself desiring, despite how he knew no one by said name.

"You even paying attention?" Piermont scowled towards the Commander, "Get your head our of your ass, you look like you're stoned or something."

"I'm fine," Alex replied bitterly, "Pay attention to the road."

As they rolled further and further into the city, finding not a soul in sight, they slowly began to let down their guards. By the time they had reached the south side of town, they were casually scanning the surrounding environment. Suddenly, a building near them exploded in a column of smoke and debris, and everyone in Alpha Company was instantly put on high alert.

"Don't come any further!" a harsh voice spoke out through the still air, "Identify yourselves!"

"Alpha Company of the Terminator Militia," Alex replied coldly, "Identify _your_selves!"

A man of early thirties suddenly emerged from the shadows of a ruined building, "Captain Bill West, formerly of the _Maxia _Regime under General 'Necro'...you're the boys that we keep hearing are supposed to get us out of this hellhole?"

"Trust us, _hombre_, we're not exactly excited about bringing some of you _Maxian _sons of bitches back to New Alexandria with us," Piermont smirked.

"Yeah, well...the enemy of my enemy is my friend," West replied, nodding towards them, "Maybe you can supply us some protection until we can finish getting everything ready to go."

"Have you had any problems with Mabao or any of his cronies?"

"Not since the Necropolis fell," the man replied, "Command just kinda left us here to die after that."

They were led back to where the _Maxian _defectors were camped out. They had taken up residence in an old fire station, surrounded by a wall of corrugated steel plates roughly strung together to provide some semblance of protection, and makeshift guard towers that dotted the area. Upon their arrival back at the compound, the gates opened, allowing Alpha Company entrance into the area. There were around one to two hundred _Maxian _soldiers living in the compound, doing various, necessary tasks to ensure the survival of the clan. Across what was once the parking lot, a row of dirty trucks were lined up, and _Maxian _soldiers were carting boxes of supplies and belongings onto them, preparing to move out.

"We've been threatened to be the target of an attack by the Shade King," West continued, leading everyone through the compound towards the firehouse itself, "Apparently he wants to prove to the world that he's no joking matter. We've been getting ready to move out, hopefully to find another sanctuary away from that creepy bastard, but now that you're here, perhaps you can take us in instead?"

"What do you know about the Shade King?" Alex asked.

"Nothing much," West replied, opening a squeaky metal door and stepping aside to allow Alpha entry into the dark, damp depths of the hall beyond, "We've never seen his face, only heard stories about what kinda man he is. Supposedly, he's a demon brought from the deepest pits of Hell. Now, I'm religious, don't get me wrong, but I don't think it works that way...s'just me though."

They were led through a number of snaking hallways before finally arriving in the main living area for the firefighters that used to live here. The room was full of refugees, both _Maxian _and civilian, bloodied, beaten, sick, and dirty. "You have refugees here?" Spyro asked.

"Roger," West replied, "Anyone who survived the Necropolis and managed to get out before the shit hit the fan, mainly families that Mabao wanted executed after their failure to defend the city."

"Hope you have enough transportation to get them all out," Terrias began, "We weren't expecting half a village."

"Don't worry about that," West nodded, "We can take care of them, we just need an escort to get to friendly territory, since we're low on ammunition and most of our vehicles can't stand up against a _Maxian _attack, should one arise."

"You pretty convinced that the _Maxia _will attack you?" Alex asked.

"Yes, I am. We know very little about the Shade King or who he is, but what we _do _know is that he is ruthless, merciless, and soulless. He'll do anything to ensure that he gets his point across...even if it means cutting loose ends or killing someone just for the hell of it. Anything to strike fear into the people and show the world that he's a very serious threat."

"Heh...must be compensating for something," Piermont said with a smug grin.

"Perhaps..." then, "So, can you help us?"

"Don't see why not," Alex replied, "Things are feeling a little empty following the Necropolis anyway."

"Excellent," West said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them, "We'll finish getting everything packed up, and we should be ready to move out by twilight."

While the _Maxian _refugees continued stocking up their convoy of vehicles in preparation to leave the city, Alex sat upon the command tank's turret, his column sitting in a corner of the lot. The Commander watched the men and women prepare to leave, lazily playing with a single 5.45×39mm cartridge from the clip of his AK47. Cynder approached him, hopping onto the tank and settling herself by his side, asking, "Are you okay?"

"Fine..." he replied, "Tired...but what's new."

"You just seem a little distant lately...you sure everything's fine?"

Alex nodded, "Just peachy..."

Cynder cast him a doubtful look, knowing very well that something was bothering him.

After several moments of silence, he sighed, "Listen, Cyn...I'm jut really tired, that's all."

"Nightmares?"

Reluctantly, the Commander nodded, "Yeah, I've run into a bad spot..."

"Perhaps you should get that checked out..."

"And what is anyone gonna do about it? I'm a soldier, given the shit I've seen in my lifetime, I should be glad that they're not worse. This isn't the first time I've had problems with them...give me a couple of weeks, and I'll be fine, I promise"

Cynder sighed, "Fine then, but if you need anything, just..." and they were interrupted by the staccato of an M240 firing towards them. The bullets ricocheting off of the tank, they leaped off the side, taking cover behind the machine.

Seconds later, the world erupted into the music of battle, with the _Maxian _refugees and Terminator soldiers aiding them running for cover to get their bearings. The sounds of mortars soon joined the battle, and Alex and Cynder fled from the tank as the shells connected, sending a plume of fire and stinging shrapnel from the destroyed machine.

"Shit!" Alex hissed, "We need to get back inside!"

"Where are they coming from!?" the she-dragon asked.

"Not sure, but we need to get outta here before we get cornered!"

Alex and Cynder charged back into the building, finding the _Maxian _refugees packing the last of their things and readying to take them to the trucks. Piermont and Terrias ran up to the duo, the snivy saying, "We'll go on ahead, try to clear up some room for these guys to move out."

"What are they others going to do?" the Commander asked.

Piermont replied, "They splittin' up to protect the trucks. Figure two or three of our guys per car, should have no problem in protecting the convoy."

"Captain West," Alex growled, "How close are you to moving out?"

"Give us five more minutes," he replied anxiously, loading a fresh clip into his M16, "Then we'll be ready."

With this said, Alex and Cynder once more charged back out into the parking lot, soon finding themselves under fire from _Maxian _infantry that had managed to breach the walls with the aide of a few pieces of heavy armor. "Couldn't be any more of a nuisance, can they?" Cynder scoffed.

Gunning down a squad that was moving towards them, Alex nodded for them to move up the line, taking cover behind a concrete barrier in the center of the parking lot, "'Course they can," the Commander chuckled, "It's what they do best."

"Wonder what's got them all riled up about these guys...it's just a bunch of refugees they abandoned, why does the _Maxia _want to kill them all of a sudden?"

"Probably to tie up loose ends, prove that they're done playing games, and probably to prevent us from growing our force by absorbing them..." Alex peeked out of cover to shoot towards another approaching squad, "That's one thing I _can _give old Barry Mabao...he knows how we are."

"You seem _way _too approving of that knowledge," Cynder replied uneasily, "If he knows how we do things, we're in trouble."

"Can't be helped," the Commander replied, "We can only keep fighting."

They moved up the line once again, clambering onto one of the refugees' tanks and slipping inside. Alex used the machine's cannon to drive back the _Maxia_, and once they had a brief respite from the exchange of fire, he poked his head out of the turret, manning the M240 and calling to the fast approaching Captain West, "Yo! Let's get moving before they brave up!"

West and the rest of his squad shoved their way into the tank, starting it up and moving forward. Alex kept laying fire down on the _Maxian _infantry, currently in cover, trying to keep their anti-tank crews from getting comfortable. "Hold onto something!" West called from the tank's interior, and the machine barreled through the hastily constructed walls, rolling over a pile of debris and onto the crater-laden streets of Redemption.

"Where's Spyro?" Cynder asked in a concerned tone.

"He's fine," West replied, "He's on the lead truck along with that skunk..." then to Alex, "Where we headed, Commander?"

"To the _Fiernes Curtain_," he replied, "That big wall of fire to the north, we have a base there where we can prepare ourselves for passage."

"That damn thing will melt down our entire column!"

"Don't worry, we'll get everyone through, safely," the Commander continued, "We have a few towns due north of the _Curtain_ where you all can get nice and cozy."

From seemingly out of the woodwork, _Maxian _infantry, artillery, and anti-armor squads arrived on scene to engage the column. While the tank's main cannon took care of the positions within the buildings, as well as keeping snipers at bay, Alex cleaned up the streets with the mounted HMG, relieved upon seeing that the two Terminator tanks on their tail took care of any stragglers along the way.

"Never ceases to amaze me how quickly the _Maxia _can recoup their losses," Cynder sighed, "After New Alexandria _and _the Necropolis, they _still _have a sizable force that can pose a significant threat to us. Surely their reserves can't be bottomless..."

"They're not," West replied, "But you'd be surprised by just how many boots that Mabao has behind him in this war, it may even rival the Terminator Militia."

"Highly doubt that," Alex replied, "There are millions of us scattered across the world."

"Yeah, and Mabao has the entire United States Armed Forces, as well as a dozen other allied countries on his side. Think about this way, there are approximately five soldiers for every one civilian down south."

"Impossible."

"You'd be surprised. If they weren't soldiers that willingly joined, they were drafted. All able-bodied civilians of all sexes, orientations, and ideologies, that are at least sixteen years of age, are ripe for selective services, and boy is Mabao pegging that one hard."

_There's too many of them_! Terrias telepathically told the Commander, _They're crawling all over the damn place back here!_

_Where are you?_

_At the tail-end of the column, if we don't do something about this, they'll rip us apart before we can get everyone through the _Curtain_._

After several moments of silence, Alex responded, _I have an idea_, and he tapped his earpiece, "Elliot, you there? Gonna need you for somethin'..."

"Hell you want, Vaughn?" the general replied viciously soon after.

"Think we can spare an activation of the _Ring_?"

"What's going on down there?"

"_Maxia_, and a whole helluva lot of them. We're trying to get the refugees to the border, but the _Maxia _have gained a lotta ground and there won't be anybody that gets out of this alive if we don't do something."

"You don't think our base at the _Curtain_ can hold them off?"

"Don't think so..."

"Fucking..."

"So, can we fire the _Ring _or not? It's kinda urgent here."

"Damn it," the general growled, "Give me the coordinates."

As they arrived at the long, flat, empty stretch of land between them and their base in the shadow of the _Curtain_, Alex called over his radio, "Listen up! Everybody needs to light a fire under their asses and get ready to kick it into high gear! We're firing the _Ring _to try and clean up the _Maxia _dogging us, it's gonna be danger close, so get ready!"

As the tracking laser confirming the _Ring's _lock fired down upon them, illuminating the world in a sanguine hue and informing them that the weapon was ten seconds out from firing, Alex dove back in the tank, shutting the hatch behind him and praying that they could all get out of the area of effect before the blast hit. If they were trapped within the predicted AOE, they would be incinerated almost instantly in a heat akin to that of a nuclear detonation. Holding his breath, he finally sighed in relief as Terrias confirmed that they had exited the marked AOE, putting about six hundred yards between them and the meat of the attack, sparing them from death, quick or otherwise. Once the continuous beam of plasma let up, leaving the surrounding environment a noticeably hotter temperature, Alex finally poked his head out again from the interior of the tank. The sandy terrain between them and Redemption had been converted to glass, smoking and steaming in the heat, and a few heavily charred _Maxian _tanks rolled slowly to a stop. A few tanks managed to avoid the brunt of the attack, but they were swiftly taken care of by the Terminator forces who, after assuring that the onslaught had ceased, finally were allowed into the fort.

Once the tanks had parked and the refugees, shaken but healthy, climbed out and stretched their legs, Captain West approached the Commander, leaning against the command tank, rubbing his temples against an oncoming headache.

"So...how are we gonna get through that wall of fire? It's impenetrable isn't it?"

"We'll probably transfer your supplies to our plated tanks and take you guys to the other side, it'll take a lot less time than if we were to try and retrofit your machines with the same tech we use."

"So what do we do then?"

"Hang out for a little while, till we get the 'all clear' from Command to start shipping you guys through."

"You have a place we can stay?"

"We have a few successful towns in the are that could be of use to you, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it...if you're worried about us leaving you homeless, that won't happen but...well, we'll just see."


	39. Chapter XXXVIII: Installation 07

_**Chapter XXXVIII**_**:**

**-"Installation 07"-****  
****-Ponyville, Equestria-****  
****-**_**11 May 2012**_**-****  
****-**_**0730 Hours**_**-**

"Oi, Commander, where in the bloody hell are we going?" Piermont asked, lighting a cigarette.

"The Palace," Alex replied.

Alpha Company rode through the dirt streets of one of the villages of Equestria in two Abrams tanks and one Tiger II-the command tank.

"Hehe," Piermont smiled mischievously, glancing around at the staring civilians, "This reminds me of Aladdin-"

"Don't," Alex warned.

Ignoring his rider, Piermont sang, "Make way for Prince Ali! Say hey it's Prince Ali-"

"Shut up."

"Make way here he comes, ring bells, bang the drums, you're gonna love this guy! Prince Ali fabulous he Ali Albabwa!"

"Shut the hell up."

"Prince Ali, mighty as he Ali Albabwa!"

"Shut the fuck up, Pierre!"

"Prince Ali, handsome as he Ali Ababwa!"

Telekinetically, Alex sent Piermont flying off of the tank and into a puddle of mud. Swearing, Piermont stood, manipulating the mud off of his clothes and hissed, "What the hell was THAT for?"

Shrugging innocently, Alex said, "I told you to be quiet."

"Dumbass bastard."

"Motherfucking, whiny-ass bitch."

"Ooh, touche!"

Alex flipped Piermont the bird, causing the latter's jaw to drop in surprise.

"Now," Alex began, signaling for the tank to halt, "Are you gonna mount up? Or are we gonna leave you here?"

Piermont quickly clambered back onto the tank, retaking his seat beside his rider. As soon as the dragon was mounted, the tank thundered down the streets, advancing to the distant palace.

* * * * *

Once they had arrived at the castle, Alex signaled for the column to park, and Alpha Company dismounted. The Nighthawks gathered around the High Command, as per usual, and a steward to Princess Celestia arrived to greet them.

"Hi!" She said, "Are you the Termite Military-"

"Terminator Militia," Alex corrected with a good-humored grin, "And yes, we are."

"Swell, follow me. The Princess is expecting you."

As they walked across the palatial grounds via the cobblestone footpath, the various peasants, nobles, and servants greeted them. Several minutes later, they arrived at a beautifully architectured, three-floor building. They entered through beautifully carved, gilded doors, and into a vast dining hall. At the far end of the room, opposite the entrance, the Princess sat at her throne.

"Commander Alex?" she asked.

"Aye, and my soldiers," the Commander replied, bowing once he was at the foot of the raised pedestal on which the throne sat, "You called us?"

"I need your help."

"We are honored to oblige."

"The friend of a student of mine, a purple dragon named Spike, has been kidnapped, I need your help to find him."

"A purple dragon?" Spyro asked.

"Yes," the pony replied, "Almost like you, only with green spikes...and younger, no offense I hope."

"None taken."

"He is only just a baby..."

"Any idea who might have kidnapped him?" Alex asked.

She sighed as a purple unicorn entered the room, Twilight Sparkle, Alex remembered meeting her once. She looked distraught, and immediately said, "I wish I did...but he was taken yesterday afternoon when he went to Rarity's." then, another pony, a light blue one, stepped beside her.

''You need to find him,'' she said.

Alex nodded, lost in thought, "Okay," he said, "Don't worry, we'll find him."

"Oh! Thank you! So very much."

Unstrapping his radio, Alex issued the call. "Great Commander to all personnel, we have a missing subject: a purple dragon, infant, green spikes, goes by the name of Spike...any information regarding him will be greatly appreciated, and rewarded, over."

**-Execution Yard: Solitude, Skyrim-****  
****-**_**11 May 2012**_**-****  
****-**_**1605 Hours**_**-**

The carriage parked alongside the road, just across from where the latest execution of another Imperial Officer was taking place. Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm stepped down from the platform, confused, as he approached the carriage.

Six men, dressed in Stormcloak Soldier attire, stepped down from the vehicle, walking to the back as they opened the bed and forcefully brought out a blindfolded, gagged, purple dragon.

"What is going on here? Who is this?" the Jarl questioned.

One of the soldiers replied, "We caught this beast trying to illegally cross the border from Hammerfell. We brought him here for execution."

Suddenly, Ulfric's radio buzzed from Alex's message, "Hold on a moment," he said, listening to the call.

The guards exchanged glances, then began fleeing back to the vehicle.

"Wait! Stop!" Ulfric demanded, "Archers!"

One of the guards then returned, stripping off his cuirass and revealing a bomb vest. Dante Stormblade, the Dragonborn and Ulfric's third-in-command and personal bodyguard, revealed a dagger.

"Oh sh-" Ulfric began, but he was cut off as the bomber exploded, the shockwave throwing everyone aside as a nearby building collapsed into the street. The intruders, cover blown, tossed Spike back in as they forced their mounts to turn back. Archers were quick to pursue, and when the smoke cleared, both Ulfric and Dante lay on the ground, unconscious.

One of the archers called to the gatesmen, "Carriage coming to the south! Stop them!"

As the carriage sped across the city towards the closing gates, archers on the ramparts took their positions. One of the intruders stood in his seat, revealing a bazooka and blowing away the door.  
Through the smoke and debris, the carriage ramped out, bouncing as it landed and sped south. Both Solitude guards, as well as Skyrim's guards, followed in close pursuit.

Within an hour, the carriage arrived at the closed border to Cyrodiil, and guards were waiting to intercept them. Revealing an M240 HMG, one of the intruders gunned down the guards, using the bazooka to obliterate the wrought iron gate as the carriage sped through the border, into Cyrodiil, and out of Skyrim's guards' jurisdiction. Unfortunately, Cyrodiil was not Terminator loyal, and the loyalist  
guards could do nothing. They stopped at the border, unhappy, and Galmor Stone-Fist, Ulfric's wing-second, contacted Alex.

**-The Palace: Canterlot, Equestria-****  
****-**_**11 May 2012**_**-****  
****-**_**0915 Hours**_**-**

"Commander?"

"Yes, Galmor?" Alex asked.

"We found your target..."

Twilight suddenly grew excited.

"Really?" Alex asked, "Where?"

"Unfortunately, that's the bad news...six impersonators arrived in Solitude about an hour ago, with your target, trying to execute him. We called their bluff, and one of them became a suicide bomber while  
the others escaped."

"Is everyone okay?"

"I don't know. I think so."

"Where is Spike?"

"I don't know, we chased those bastards to the border, but they crossed into Cyrodiil...unfortunately, we can't do anything there."

Alex sighed, "Yeah...I know."

"Sorry we couldn't stop them."

"It's okay. Thanks for trying."

"Aye."

Alex sighed, strapping his radio and sliding down the wall. "So..." the princess began, "Why take him all the way to Skyrim?"

"Probably because Skyrim is the only place that still allows execution by beheading...it must mean something."

"Doesn't all of Tamriel do execution by beheading?" Piermont asked, "Why Skyrim?"

"I don't know...unless it's a statement for a Terminator-loyal nation to kill him."

"_Maxia_ involvement?" Terrias suggested.

"I doubt it, the _Maxia_ are gone. Remember?"

"Maybe a 'headless chicken' style situation?"

"Maybe...but I won't put my money on it."

"So what will you do?" Twilight asked.

"I don't know...I'll think about it, then I'll let you know before we leave for New Alexandria."

**-Cyrodiil, Tamriel: The Gothics-****  
****-**_**12 May 2012**_**-****  
****-**_**0309 Hours**_**-**

Deep in the forest, adjacent to a clearing, the carriage parked, and the soldiers dismounted, forcefully dragging Spike out.

"When do you think he'll arrive?" one of the men asked.

"I don't know, this bastard was supposed to be offed in Solitude, I doubt he'll be very happy about the change in plans..." the second man replied.

"Incoming!" another man called out.

In the distance, a black speck began to grow as a low, mechanical drone filled the air, and a black helicopter landed. The cockpit opened, and a man dressed in _Maxia_ officer's clothes stepped into the  
doorway, a silenced AK47 equipped with a laser sight in hand.

"Problems?" he asked.

"Yeah, our cover was blown, the Argonian we got him from ratted us out, but we have the target."

"Good, I know just what to do with the little prick. Give him to me."

The soldiers handed the dragon to the officer, and once Spike was secured in the chopper, the man turned back inside, preparing to close the door.

"Wait!" one of the soldiers exclaimed, "What about our payment? You promised us gold if we handed him off unscathed. Well, here we are, now pay up. We don't work for free."

"Right..." the officer said, feigning forgetfulness with exaggerated gestures, "Your payment..." He aimed his AK47 out and opened fire, emptying an entire clip into the group of mercenaries. Once they were dead, he said, "Don't spend it all at once," and he laughed as he closed the door and the helicopter took off into the night.

**-The Palace: Canterlot, Equestria-****  
****-**_**11 May 2012**_**-****  
****-**_**1355 Hours**_-

"Commander?" Alex's radio buzzed.

"Yeah?"

"We found our impersonators..."

"Really?"

"Aye."

"Where?"

"Dead."

"How?"

"Gunned down by the looks. It was in a forest clearing a few miles into Cyrodiil."

"And Spike?"

"No sign."

"Hand-off gone bad?"

"Possibly. But, I have more bad news..."

"What?"

"The bullets used to kill them? Yeah, only used by two known owners...and one of them I highly doubt."

"Who? NATO rounds?"

"Worse, silver."

"Shit! _Maxia_!"

"Aye."

"Who?" the princess asked.

"Unfortunately," Alex began, "If the _Maxia_ are involved, you aren't gonna get a ransom. They are gonna kill him in a half-assed attempt to weaken support for us from our allies. That is, unless we find and save him first."

"Where is he?"

Alex shrugged, "I don't know. But we have the entire militia on high alert. If they so much as stick their heads in the wrong place, we'll know."

* * * * *

As Alpha Company left the palace, Alex's radio buzzed again. "Alex here?"

"Commander, it's John."

"Chief! What's going on?"

"We just had a Hornet land on Installation 07, using your ID."

Alex's face adopted a grave look.

"What's wrong?" Terrias asked.

"We found Spike."

**-Installation 07-****  
****-**_**12 May 2012**_**-****  
****-**_**0832 Hours**_**-**

"Alright!" Piermont called as their Hornet came out of hyperspace and flew over the desert/volcanic terrain of the seventh ring of the Halo array, "Where are they?"

"I don't know," Alex replied, "But after they landed, Chief called the area a no-fly zone."

"So they're still on the ring?"

"Unless they found some mysterious Forerunner teleporter deep within the bowels of the Halo."

"Great. And we get to search the whole goddamn ring for a tiny dragon. Shit-tastic!"

"Movement below, thermal cams picked it up!" their pilot called.

"Animals?" Alex called back over the roar of the engines.

"Negative, heat signatures are too humanoid."

"Covenant? Maybe Sangheli or Jiralhanae?"

"Eh...Negative, too small. It's human."

"Land."

As the Hornet began to descend through the cloud cover over one of the Venusian sectors, the aircraft shook violently as light streaks penetrated the cloud cover, barely missing them. "Shit!" the pilot  
cried, "Anti-aircraft! They're firing upon us!"

"Get below them! Into the desert!"

The Hornet made a hairpin turn as it landed on a sandy dune. The others landed as well and the Terminator Militia disembarked. The pilot then said, "Numerous hostiles in the area, seems there's a whole damn _Maxia_ contingent here."

Alex, jumping from the Hornet, revealed his thermal scope-modified sniper rifle and scanned the horizon. "Jesus," he said, "There's at least two to three thousand _Maxia_ troops out there. Get ready for one helluva firefight."

"Shit-tastic!" Piermont muttered, "Any ideas?"

"Course!" Alex exclaimed, "Engage them!" As the _Maxia_ forces attacked, the militia charged down the hill, engaging the opposing forces. Above, Covenant Supercarriers, Phantoms, Spirits, Seraphs, and  
Banshees emerged out of hyperspace, deploying their soldiers as the two armies clashed.

"Spyro, Piermont, Cynder, Terrias, and Aria, you all are on me, we need to flank and evade these bastards and look for Spike before something bad happens to him. Once news gets back to their CO that we're here to bust 'em out, Spike's young life will not last much longer."

* * * * *

Captain Mark Williams dragged his captive through the interior of the ring, beneath the land as he wandered through thousands upon thousands of staring Flood infection forms. In the heart of the massive room, the colony's Gravemind awaited the meeting.

"Child of my enemy, why have you come?"

"I'm here to make a deal," Williams replied, "This winged lizard in exchange for some...small...aide that would still benefit you."

"Name your price."

"I understand the Flood reproduce by possessing and consuming lifeforms? Well, on my planet of Earth, we have this massive army known collectively as the Terminator Militia, and I could use your  
help in wiping them out. Do we have a deal?"

"Keep your appetizer alive until we arrive."

Williams smiled, "I can do that."

* * * * *

"So..." Piermont began, "How do you suppose we find Spike in this doughnut-shaped hellhole?"

"I suggest we start by finding the ring's Cartographer first," Alex replied.

"Why do you suppose he dragged Spike here, Alex?" Terrias asked.

"I don't know...but there has to be a reason. He's way out here. Whatever the reason, it can't be good."

"Where is the Cartographer?" Spyro asked.

"Dunno, Spyro, but if we look, we'll find it."

"Incoming!" A Terminator soldier cried, "Enemy Minecrawlers! A whole fleet of 'em!"

"Shit!" Piermont swore.

"Great, this day just keeps getting better and better," Alex muttered, then, he commanded, "Take them down! NOW!"

* * * * *

Williams entered the massive room where the Cartographer was. The ring's monitor hovered around him, questioning his business with the ring. Ignoring the AI, Williams typed into the holographic keyboard and watched as eight, blinking red dots appeared on the screen.

Unstrapping his radio, he ordered, "Let's do this! Commence firing!"

In eight different parts of the ring's internal structure, _Maxia_ crews activated massive warp drives simultaneously. The ring, responding to the teleportation system, began to shake violently, and pieces of the terrain began to break loose, flying through as the artificial atmosphere weakened and the vacuum of space began to take over.

* * * * *

The violent quaking of the land shook everybody off of their feet, and the battle halted as both forces rushed for cover from the collapsing environment. As the ninth and final warp drive activated, located in the dead center point of the inside of the ring, a blue energy field fired off in short bursts, as a massive blue, electric sphere appeared in a flash of light, beginning at the center and expanding at an  
alarming pace until it engulfed the entire ring.

**-Cuban Rainforest-****  
****-**_**12 May 2012**_**-****  
****-**_**1130 Hours**_**-**

A haggard old man worked hard, sweating profusely and breathing heavily as he lifted the last few bags of tobacco onto the delivery truck.

Once the last was loaded, he leaned up against the side, drinking from a bottle of water as he relaxed. Suddenly, the world darkened as if night had suddenly fallen. Confused, he opened his eyes and screamed as he spied a massive metal surface blocking out the whole sky.

The earth, the size of a housefly compared to the girth of the steel ring was almost entirely in the shadow of the ring. Once the encompassing sphere winked out of existence, the ring began to drift  
from earth, towards the sun, until it was a massive, black ribbon across the blue, cloud-spotted skies.

* * * * *

Alex's eyes slowly opened as he felt the sharp heat of the sunlight against his skin. The heat was intense, and not a sound was in the air. He picked himself up, dazed, and he was suddenly aware of the orb of Earth in the skies above the cloudless, blindingly bright desert.

One by one, Terminators and _Maxia_ awoke from their unconscious, as dazed and confused as Alex was. Suddenly, the ring beneath them shook and groaned as the supports below groaned and gave way, collapsing. The twisted supporting rods, damaged by the movement and stress, broke free, taking immense chunks of the ring with it as they floated off in distant space, towards Earth.

As if they were dominoes, more and more supporting beams adjacent to the collapsed one collapsed as well. And the ring, top-heavy on the damaged side as debris piled up, began to tip over. The normally  
untouched desert land beneath the destroyed supports fell into the hollow ring's interior, creating impossibly deep craters and piling at the bottom or falling through the immense gap in the ring and towards Earth. Soon, Earth would be showered by sand, dead lifeforms, cliffs, and pieces of the ring.

The ring groaned again as the chain reaction of collapsing supports ceased, and the ring continued to tip, each unsteady movement of the ring causing more supports to snap.

"Evacuate the ring!" Alex commanded to his army. As their transportation landed, Terminator soldiers loaded up and began returning to Earth. Soon, only Alpha Company remained.

"Everyone," Alex said, "Load up and go!"

They did, but when Alex stayed put, they only climbed out again. "Not without you, Alex," Rapid said.

"Go! I need to find Spike."

"And we'll stay with you in case you need help."

"No, leave, now."

"No."

"Goddammit! Stop being so fucking stubborn! Go! Leave me here! That's an order! I order you to leave me here!"

After some hesitation, Rapid finally submitted, and Alpha Company boarded. As the Hornet took off, Spyro, Cynder, Terrias, Aria, and Piermont leaped off, hitting the ground as the Hornets rose higher,  
and the bay doors closed.

"You stubborn-ass bastards!" Alex hissed, running to his team, "What in the fuck are you thinking!?" Calling back to the Hornet, he said, "Come back! Come back!"

"It's no use," Spyro said with a smile, "They can't hear you, we're stuck with you now."

Glaring angrily at Spyro, Alex turned and walked away, leaving his team to quickly stand and run to catch up to him.

"Commander," Thel Vadame said over the radio, "We are withdrawing, the ring is becoming increasingly unstable, and we can't risk landing. You have six hours to find your target and EVAC before we glass the ring and send it into another part of the galaxy. If you are still on when  
time is up, we have no choice, and we can't delay."

* * * * *

Williams picked himself up, shaking off his daze. Around him, the ceilings and walls had broken apart, and sparking wires poked through. The power core, now damaged, went out, and the Cartographer went dark.

The monitor, having recovered from the stress of the teleportation suddenly went rampant. "What have you done!? You have damaged the structural supports and now the installation will break apart within  
four hours, thirty two minutes, and fifty one seconds!"

Reaching for his AK47, Williams fired an entire, 50 round clip into the AI, until it exploded into pieces and fell to the ground. Wiping the blood from his cut cheek, Williams picked up an unconscious Spike  
and dragged him deeper into the ring.

* * * * *

Alex and his team entered the Cartographer's room. "Jesus...what the hell happened?" Piermont asked.

"I don't know," he tried to activate the console, "Shit, the power's out."

"Alex?" Spyro asked.

"Yeah?"

"Look at this..." The purple dragon held up a piece of the monitor's eye.

"So," Terrias began, "Looks like our guy decided the monitor isn't very useful anymore, so he shot 'em up pretty bad."

"I'm gonna guess the AI went rampant after it discovered what our unsub did to it's installation."

"Spyro," Alex began, "See if you can use your electricity breath in the power supply to get the terminal up for a bit."

Confused, Spyro took a deep breath and shot a jet of electricity at the console. The map suddenly shimmered into visibility.

"Good, now hold it for a second."

Alex swiftly typed into the holographic keyboard. As Spyro was about to lose his breath, Alex signaled for him to stop. Tapping several buttons on his waterproof wristwatch, the Commander watched as a  
holographic map of the ring appeared.

"Excellent," he said, "C'mon, let's find our unsub."

After another violent shaking of the ring, the group pressed deeper into the ring, in hot pursuit of the officer.

* * * * *

An hour later, Alex and his team emerged through a door. "Stay quiet!" he whispered, and pointed to the balcony just outside the room they were in. The man, adorned in _Maxia_ officer clothes, and holding a rope tied to a purple dragon's neck watched as _Maxia_ evacuated.

Sneaking closer, Alex picked up a metal girder that had broken from the ceiling and approached the man. As he was about to bring the girder against the man's neck. Spike turned around, giving a little  
squeak as the man violently twisted around, punching Alex square in the jaw. The Commander fell to the ground, dazed, and Spyro rushed him. Williams, picking up the bar Alex had dropped, smashed Spyro in mid-air, and the dragon went flying backwards and into the wall, as if swatted with a flyswatter. Cynder charged next, but was also struck with the girder. Aria and Terrias rushed him, but Williams punched them, picking Aria up, and tossing her into her mate.

Alex charged again, and the two fought tooth and nail until the Commander, on top of Williams, was kicked off. Alex flew through the air and over the edge. He tossed a bug, sticking it to the man's back  
as Williams left the group behind. The Commander, grip loosening, cried out in alarm as he fell...and Terrias grabbed his arm, saving him from a three mile drop into the cloud-covered ground below.  
Terrias lifted him back onto the balcony, and Alex, with the rest of his team, activated the tracking bug as he followed Williams.

When they reached a dead end where the hallway had collapsed, another violent shaking of the ring opened a hole in the ground, and the group fell through, falling fifty feet and landing, rather hard, in a  
flooded hall. Healing their broken bones, they resumed the chase as the water level continued to rise at an alarming pace.

They reached the end of the hall, a massive room that opened into a two hundred foot drop into a pool of lava, torrential waves smashing against the steel walls of the room. The ceiling was arched, and the  
metal glowed from the intense heat. Terrias cried out in alarm as he ran off the edge, and Alex grabbed his hand, pulling him back onto the platform.

"What do we do, Alex? we're trapped! The hall collapsed!" Cynder called out.

"Follow me..." he said. Taking a deep breath, he backed up, closed his eyes, and jumped off the platform, leaping over the four hundred foot gap and crashing into the opposite hall. His team followed suit, and Spyro grabbed Cynder's paw as she missed the platform, pulling her on. They dashed through,reaching the end of the hall as a large, five hundred foot drop lay before them. Girders poked through the walls at fifty foot increments on the way down. The bottom of the drop was marked by a quickly rotating fan.

The team dropped down to the nearest girder, dropping from girder to girder as they made their descent, at the bottom girder, they jumped to another section of hallway, and continued on until they reached a pool of water that lay before them.

"Time to swim," Alex said, and taking a deep breath, he jumped in. The water was deep, but it was shower-warm, and they swam through multiple flooded corridors, struggling not to breathe. Finally, they swam up, surfacing in a doorway to a massive room. The floor was actually the slanted exterior wall of the ring. Around them, they could see the supporting structures for the ring. It was a fifty foot drop to the floor, but the wall behind them was a catwalk, and could be used to climb down.

Alex signed for his team to remain silent as he pointed to a large group of _Maxia_ soldiers surrounding one of the massive warp drives. Those unscathed were either caring for the injured, or patrolling the  
room. On the other side of the mile-long room, they could see a hole in the wall...their exit. Quietly, they climbed down landing on the ground and sneaking past the patrols, hiding behind the support beams. An inch of water flooded the room, and they had to take care not to splash.

Eventually, however, they climbed the opposite wall and onto the breach. Through the hole, they could see the immense hole in the exterior. Williams was beside the hole, fixing a crane, wearing a space suit. Dangling from the crane was a dispersal pod, full of Flood infection forms and aimed directly at Earth. Spike, sleeping, was on the platform above the hole, tied to the console.

"Shit," Piermont whispered, "He's gonna drop those pods onto Earth and infect the whole goddamn planet."

"Not if we stop him," Alex said.

The ring then shook again, the most violent yet, and the group slipped, falling through the hole and onto the ground. Williams, alerted, unsheathed his AK47 and charged the group.

Alex rushed him, diving and knocking the captain down, wrestling the assault rifle out of his hands. "Piermont! Get Spike into a clean pod! Terrias! Find a way to stop those Flood pods!"

"Commander," Williams hissed, "You are more trouble than you're worth!"

"Go to hell _Maxia_ scum!"

"The name is Captain Mark Williams, and I will be a hero!"

"You will be nothing!"

"I have already rebuilt the _Maxia_ here! Once the Flood wipe out your army, MY _Maxia_ will rise!"

"You idiot! The Flood won't wipe out a targeted group! They will mindlessly wipe out all living life! Friend AND Foe!"

"Wrong!" and Williams emphasized this by pinning Alex down, sitting on his chest, and punching him.

The ring shook...but not one of the collapsing shakes...

"Uh...Alex!" Piermont called, untying Spike's binds, "The Elites are beginning their attack! Better speed things up a little!"

"Trying!" Alex called back, evading blows from Williams.

Terrias climbed onto the platform, setting Spike loose and struggling  
to move the joystick...it wouldn't budge. "Alex!" he said, "The controls are jammed! What do I do?"

"Figure out something!" Alex called out in between punches.

Williams, spitting out blood and teeth shouted, "Haha! It can't be stopped! The dispersal mechanism is timed!"

"Yes it can!" Spyro said, excitedly, "Terrias, if you hold the controls, maybe keep the drop button held down, it will keep the dispersal from automatically occurring?"

"I can kinda move it, but it won't stay."

"Hold the stick!" Piermont shouted, "Keep the pod away from the hole!"

Then, the ring shook again. The ceiling above collapsed, and the hole grew bigger as the surrounding floor collapsed, taking Alex and Williams with it.

"ALEX!" Piermont cried.

The section of floor the two enemies were on barely remained connected to the shell, literally being held on by a thin sliver of the exterior shell. Once they had recovered, the fight continued, but now they were forced to dodge debris, water, and land falling from the hole above them. There was still some atmosphere left, and even this close to space, they could breathe, but it was difficult.

Williams grabbed Alex then, jamming his knife up to the hilt in the Commander's chest. As the captain prepared to stab Alex again, he grabbed his sword, running Williams through as he ripped the knife  
from his chest and severed the oxygen lines to his foe's helmet. Now unable to breathe, the captain removed his helmet and Alex kicked him in the chest. He cried out as he slid out of the sword and into the hole, into the void of space.

Williams dead, Alex scampered up the groaning platform, emerging inside as they splinter snapped. He ran up to Terrias, taking the controls as he ordered his team to get Spike into the empty pod. With Spike secured, Terrias said, "C'mon Alex! Let's go!"

Alex shook his head.

Realizing what was about to happen, Terrias rushed the door, but Alex was faster than he. Pressing a button on the console, the door shut with a pneumatic hiss, and Terrias ran into the door. His eyes through the tiny window on the door displayed the horror the pod's passengers felt. Alex, sounding tired through his comm radio, said, "I'm sorry...but if no one holds the stick, the pod will drop."

"It's suicide!" Spyro screamed, hysterical.

"I know...forgive me."

"No!"

"See you in Hell."

Alex depressed another button, and the pod dropped. His friends watched through the window as he and Piermont grew ever more distant. Their eyes locked, the Commander still held the controls...and then...

A blinding flash of light, and when it cleared, the ring, now thousands of pieces, drifted every which way, a cloud of purple fire surrounding the wreckage, feeding off what little oxygen remained.

"NO!" Spyro cried.

Terrias stared, wide-eyed, jaw-dropped. It was over. Piermont and Alex were gone.

* * * * *

The pod landed in the river running through New Alexandria. It's passengers retrieved, a funeral for the two lost soldiers was held.

"I...I can't believe they're gone..." Cynder said, her voice sounding small.

Neither Terrias nor Spyro spoke, there was nothing that could be said. As the funeral reached it's close, Cynder put her head on Spyro's shoulder, as did Aria on Terrias'.

_Frater pro Infinito_.

Brothers for eternity.

* * * * *

"Well folks," the weatherman said over the radio, "It appears that tonight we will be seeing a large meteor shower. Better grab your camcorders and Kodaks, it will be a rare moment."


	40. Chapter XXXIX: Fall from Grace

_**Chapter XXXIX**_**:**

**-''Fall from Grace''-**

**-_Unknown Location_-**

**-**_**Unknown Date**_**-**

**-**_**Unknown Time**_**-**

Alex's eyes shot open and he slowly sat up with a groan, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his head. He tried to remember where he was and what was going on, frightened to find his memories fragmented and confusing. _What happened? _he thought to himself, _Why can't I remember anything?_

He picked himself up, stumbling around, finding himself in a dark room, laying on cold steel. Upon looking forward, his eyes widened in fear at what he saw. Through a gaping hole in the hull of Installation 07, he could see the surface of Earth, growing closer to him. The atmosphere of the installation seemed to be intact, and he nearly fainted as he viewed the nauseating scene before him.

"Oh _CRAP_!" he screamed as the installation entered the planet's atmosphere falling towards the Atlantic Ocean.

The gravity he experienced while falling sucked the breath from his lungs, nearly driving him to unconsciousness. Only when the chunk of the ring crashed into the bitterly cold sea was he shocked into full alert, desperately clawing his way out of the small chamber he was in and swimming to the surface of the ocean. He wasn't sure what time it was, only that it was nighttime, with a new moon in the sky above, confusing him as only the night before had the moon been full and fat.

Surely they hadn't spent longer than a day on the installation...

Spying the coast nearby, he, with a sigh, dove beneath the waves and began to swim towards land, pulling himself on the beach less than an hour later. Now on dry land, he rolled onto his back, gasping for breath.

As the sky slowly began to brighten to a deep blue, Alex trudged along the asphalt road, exhausted. Thankful that his wallet had survived everything, he fully intended to make his way to the nearest town, check into an inn, and spend a day recovering from his ordeals before attempting to find a way back to New Alexandria. He closed his eyes as he walked along the lonely street, expanding his mind and seeking out any sign of his comrades, heart sinking to find that no one seemed to be on the receiving end.

It was several hours before he finally reached a village, and he was surprised to find that there seemed to be a lot more newer vehicles on the street. Some of them were designed in such a way that he had never seen them before, and he once more found himself wondering, _Where am I?_

Only when the sun finally crowned to the east did he realize that there had been no light from the _Fiernes Curtain _guiding his path...in fact...where _was _the _Curtain_? He looked up into the sky, hoping he didn't find himself in another parallel universe, like he had before, and much to his relief, he could see the thin, black ribbon of the _Ring _cutting across the sky, although many of the lights seemed either dimmed or completely out.

Entering a cafe, wincing at the tinkle of a bell above the door, he looked around, finding all eyes in the room upon him. He took this opportunity to check himself out, heat rising in his cheeks at how he looked, dressed in dirty, torn, and muddy B.D.U's, probably appearing like he hadn't bathed in weeks. He shoved these tiny, self-concerned thoughts away, reclaiming his calm, somber demeanor and taking a seat at a small corner table by himself, saying nothing as the waitress dropped an iPad-like device in front of him, displaying the menu.

In the upper right-hand corner of the device, he could see the time: a little after seven in the morning, and the date: January 18, 2162. Wondering if the device was bugged, he called aside a waitress, asking what was wrong with the date on his menu. The waitress merely took a look at it, shrugging and replying, "Looks fine to me."

"But..." the Commander shook his head, "It ain't January 18, and it sure as _hell _ain't 2162."

"Honey, where've you been?" she chuckled, "Kinda early for April Fool's Day isn't it?"

"It isn't..." he replied somberly, "I'm serious, it's like May 12 or 13th right? 2012?"

The waitress only laughed, walking away and saying, "Cute."

Alex shoved himself outside into the parking lot, frantically looking around. He quickly grabbed his Blackberry from his pocket, hoping that it still worked after his bath in the ocean. Thankfully, it turned on, and when the date on the device read the exact same as what he had seen on the digital menu inside the restaurant, he felt sick to his stomach, bile rising from his empty stomach into his mouth. Eyes spinning like slot reels, he backed against the wall of the restaurant, sliding down to a sitting position and turning to the side to vomit.

_This can't be happening! _he thought to himself, frantic, _What the hell is going on!? There is no way in hell I've been unconscious for one hundred and fifty fucking years!_

He tried calling various members of his unit, heart only sinking further when he received a line discontinued message on the other end.

"No..." he said to himself, shaking his head, "No, no, no, _NO!_" and he shot up, running deeper into the town, horrified, "This can't be happening! This can't be!"

He managed to hail a hovercraft taxi, which took him to New Alexandria via a slipspace drive, much like what friendly Hornets were outfitted with. Upon arriving at the city outskirts, the first thing he noticed were the condition of the mighty sandstone walls that encircled the fortified city. They were unkempt, in ruins, and dilapidated beyond repair. There wasn't a patrol in sight, and while the taxi took him across the city to Club Camelot, only more surprises were there to greet him. There were no soldiers anywhere in sight in the bustling city, and there hardly seemed to be any sign of current Terminator occupation.

All that remained to show signs of Terminator presence was old, worn graffiti on rotting buildings and neglected husks of Terminator armor and artillery. Even the _nebelwerfer _fields near Town Center seemed to have been decommissioned and put on display, foretold by the massive holes drilled into their barrels to render them useless to fire.

"Where is everybody?"

"What do you mean?" the driver asked in a thick, Middle Eastern accent.

"The soldiers...don't see a uniform in sight..."

The driver chuckled, "Ah, the Terminators were disbanded years ago. After the original Alpha Company died off, didn't learn that in history?"

"Never really paid attention...heard great things about this city," he lied, "Was hoping there was something left of the old regime."

"No...when that cancer claimed Alpha Company, the Terminators disbanded shortly after, or so the textbooks said...I'm a big history buff myself, but there is very little remaining of their history, most of it was destroyed in one of the various wars they fought throughout their time."

"Cancer? What kinda cancer?"

"They said it was brought upon by the mutation serum, as they aged, the serum reached its half-life and began to cause the cells to multiply rapidly and out of control. Their whole bodies were riddled with cancer when they died off...or at least...those that _weren't _killed in combat. I heard that little demon boy is the only one still alive, but nobody has ever seen him."

"Demon boy?"

"Yeah, they called him...Azazel I believe? He was the little demon goat boy."

"Where are they buried?"

"Eh, the cemetery in Town Center."

"Can you take me there?"

"We just passed it, sir."

"I'll pay the extra fee, just...I wanna go there instead, please."

They arrived at their destination, Alex clambering out of the cab and asking for the driver to hold there for a few minutes. Slipping the man three twenties from his wallet, Alex watched as the driver's eyes widened, "These bills...how old are they?"

Alex shrugged, "Not sure, late 1990s, early 2000s maybe."

"These are worth a fortune!"

"There's plenty more where that came from if you hold for awhile."

The man nodded vigorously, replying, "Do take your time," before closing the door behind the Commander. The silence lingering in the air was disconcerting, but also overwhelmingly depressing. He quickly strolled past the rows of graves, having grown tenfold since he had last been here. When he reached a mausoleum, open to the public, he quietly entered the darkness, a deep sense of horror overcoming as he saw what lay inside. All of Alpha Company, his brothers, seemed to rest here, even though some inscriptions admitted that the bodies were absent, unable to be retrieved and thus marked empty graves in memory of the famous unit. Everyone he knew, and quite a few that he didn't, rested here. At the center of the room, directly across from the entrance way and acting as a base for a bronze statue depicting the Commander himself, in full attire, kneeling down, arm pressed against his chest in a sort of bow, was an empty grave dedicated to one Alex Vaughn, lost during the Battle of Installation 07 in May of 2012.

All the other graves were around his, similar to a table of knights with their king at its head. This sight is what set Alex to his breaking point, and he quickly scrambled out of the mausoleum, stumbling over rows of tombstones, heading back towards the cab, in denial, in horror, and stricken with grief. This wasn't possible, there was no way he was seeing what he was, it absolutely _had _to be a dream. "WAKE UP!" he screamed into the sky, collapsing to his knees, and punching himself in the head repeatedly "God damn it all! WAKE _UP!_"

Finally, he collapsed beneath his grief, giving way to hysterics beneath the weight of this frightening realization. Everyone he loved, everyone he cared about...they were all gone. Unable to accept what he was seeing, he ran towards Town Center, ignoring the waiting cab across the cemetery, crying hysterically as he ran. None of this was real, there was no way. He ran out into the busy thoroughfare, hearing a blaring car horn fast approaching as he turned, wide-eyed, to face the oncoming headlights. The car was coming at him full speed, too close to stop. He held an arm against his eyes, and as the car slammed into his body, mangling him beneath its wheels, ripping him to shreds and painting the asphalt with his gory corpse...

...He shot up, out of breath, in a cold sweat. He frantically looked around him, trying to find where he was, remembering what had happened. After he had seen to it that Alpha Company had managed to escape the collapsing installation, he had made a break for an escape pod he had caught, hoping that it wasn't infected and hoping that he could reach it before everything fell apart around him. Then he had pressed the button as he entered the car, being slammed forcefully against the wall when it ejected, smacking his head against the door and knocking him out. With a heavy sigh of relief, he leaned back against the wall of the cabin, overjoyed to realize that it _was_, in fact, nothing more than a dream.

Once he had reclaimed himself, he stood up, walking to the small window and watching as the Atlantic Ocean grew closer. He would likely crash there, then it was only a matter of finding transportation back to New Alexandria. Just to ensure that he wasn't dreaming again, he reached into his pocket, withdrawing his phone and checking the date: 12 May 2012. Everything was fine...

Everything was fine...


	41. Chapter XL: The Shade King

_**Chapter XL**_**:**

**-''The Shade King''-**

**-Vincent, Kentucky-**

**-**_**14 May 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0830 Hours**_**-**

The sun was concealed behind the surrounding skyscrapers as the rowboat was paddled down the canal and towards a nearby, open sewer pipe. The eight men within were clad entirely in black, and the floor of the small boat was lined with rolled tarps.

"Remember," the group's leader said in a harsh, raspy, corpse-like voice, almost like a whisper, "There's no need to rush...take your time. What we do today will send a message throughout not just the nation, but the world. The Terminator Militia will finally learn that the _Maxia _Regime are not to be underestimated."

They finally made their way into the sewer, disappearing in the foul depths and paddling through the labyrinthine passages. One of the men spoke up, and in an unsure tone, asked, "Are we sure this is the best way to go about doing this? This seems wrong..." but before he even had a chance to finish his statement, the leader of the group had withdrawn a dagger from his waist and thrust it through the man's eye, abruptly ripping the blade free and shoving the body overboard.

"Anyone else want to protest?" the creature asked, but there was no response from anyone else in his group, "That's what I thought. Now keep rowing, we're almost there."

Several minutes later, they finally reached their destination, tethering the boat to the catwalk.

"Let's go!" the commander hissed, tearing open the rolled tarps on the ground, revealing a stash of heavy machine guns and thousands of rounds. Each member of the group grabbed one of the weapons, slinging it over their shoulders and taking a share of the available ammunition they hard brought with them. "Shoot, don't think," the beast replied, "It will be much easier that way."

Once everyone was armed and ready, they grabbed the last of the supplies, various types of grenades, both nonlethal and lethal, and satchel charges, and they climbed out of the boat, walking through the rank, humid depths, through more snaking passages.

"Keep your eyes on the prize, remember why we're here..." and the Shade King nodded towards the ceiling above them, "We should be right below it, get some charges up there...it's time to shake things up a bit..."

Without a word, the satchel charges were planted around the ceiling, and once the last of the explosives had been set, the Shade King ordered, "Get back, then, on my mark, blow it!"

As the _Maxia _pulled back, their leader smiled grimly, nodded forward, "Do it!"

Muffled explosions sounded throughout the air and dust poured through the tunnel as the ceiling came down around them. Once the smoke and debris had cleared, the Shade King led them forward, climbing over the rubble and onto the busted ceramic tile floor of an airport. Distantly, they could hear the chatter of a massive crowd, although there was nobody in sight.

"Remember your objectives...check your weapons and take your time. We are in no hurry here."

Once everyone was inside, the Shade King nodded ahead of them, proceeding to creep forward, weapon armed and ready. Rounding a corner, they entered the busy lobby of the airport, with a grim chuckle, the beast opened fire with his weapon, grinning as screams erupted throughout the crowd and they scattered in various directions, trying to get to safety, only to be abruptly cut down.

"Don't let anyone get away, make sure there are no survivors," he growled.

His group split up then, each taking a different approach deeper into the structure's depths. "Please!" a young woman cried, standing between the Shade King and her toddler son, "Have mercy on us!"

With eerie, unnatural speed, he had pulled his blade from his sheathe again, slicing her throat and nearly decapitating her in one fell swoop. As her corpse crumbled to the ground, her son cried out in horror, shortly before being swiftly silenced by a vicious thrust from the Shade King's blade, ripping his throat out in a spray of blood and gore. Nearby, two bloodied men tried to pull an already deceased third one into cover. Grinning once more, the creature merely shot them in the back, leaving them on the ground to bleed out.

"You monster!" a voice called out beside him, and he turned to find a woman charging towards him, attempting to strike him with a walking cane. He only sidestepped out of the way, shooting off her legs and leaving her to crawl across the ground, shrieking in pain and agony. He walked passed a vase where an older man hid from him, trembling. The Shade King grabbed the man's throat with one paw, forcing him to stand before eviscerating the man with three slashes from his knife and shoving his victim back into the billboard, smearing it in red.

"Please..." a woman cried, laying on the ground, arm pressed to her bloody stomach, "Have mercy! We surrender!"

The Shade King crouched to her side, once more withdrawing his dripping blade and stabbing her in right beneath the neck, slicing open her chest vertically. She shrieked and cried in pain, trying to keep the wound closed, begging to be put out of her misery. Now that she was truly suffering, he decided to leave her be, continuing his stroll across the building. Under heavy gunfire from one of his companions in a nearby store, a group of civilians rushed out of the stall, trying to make their way towards the door, crossing his path, pushing and shoving each other aside to reach safety. He pressed one furry finger hard against the trigger of his M240, watching in amusement as they ran right into the path of his gunfire, collapsing into a bloody pile.

At the bottom, crushed beneath the weight of a dozen corpses, an elderly woman weakly extended a hand towards him, attempting to grab his ankle. The Shade King responded by stomping upon it, crushing her limb and continuing forward. The air reeked of blood, shrieks and moans of pain and terror broke the otherwise eerie silence as the Shade King's entourage continued their grisly operation. Unfortunately for them, most of their victims were too weak to suffer for long from their injuries, and either passed out before death came upon them, or surrendered into the darkness relatively soon after. Anyone appearing strong enough to take a few beatings were briefly tortured, usually through some gruesome methods, before being left to die.

From a cafe to the Shade King's right, there was a flurry of pained screams and a muffled explosion, soon after, a cluster of patrons ran out from within, doused in flames while the Shade King's companions continued to throw hastily made Molotov cocktails towards them. Security and riot squads soon arrived on scene, attempting to subdue the terrorists. They were, however, rendered immobile by flashbangs and tear gas, shortly before the creature's forces executed them as they attempted to crawl away.

Passing into another room, what had begun to be cordoned off by a security gate before the guards had been slaughtered, they found two children, one teenager, one appearing to have barely started school, huddling beside the mangled corpses of what could be assumed to be their mother and father, sobbing over the bodies. The Shade King was soon upon them, shooting the teen in a leg and leaving him to be gruesomely tortured and mutilated by the beast's companions while the creature himself bludgeoned the child to death with the butt of his weapon. Only once the younger child was dead did the Shade King place the cold barrel of his weapon against the teen, now without several fingers or nails, teeth, his tongue, and having had one of his eyeballs forcefully removed from his skull, now hanging loosely on his cheek. With a cold cackle, he pulled the trigger, blowing a large portion of the kid's face and skull away.

Finally, they reached the end of the path, a closed security door between them and the rest of the building. On the other side, they could still hear screams and crying from terrified citizens, being consoled by airport security. "Get this door open!" the Shade King hissed, "Now!" and he stepped aside to allow one of his men by. While the burly soldier, about mid-to-late forties, bald and with a brown, groomed goatee, attempted to lift the door by himself while the others merely looked upon him, the Shade King himself turned and observed the carnage before him, mouth twisting into a grim smile of satisfaction. Mabao wanted them to send a message, sure enough, they did. The President had ordered him to do whatever he felt was necessary to instill fear in the Terminator Militia and try to usurp their arrogance, their narcissism and sense of security. Mabao had made it the Shade King's responsibility to ensure that the militia did not feel safe within their might stone walls. He had even allowed the beast to commit this massacre, knowing that a simple threat with no meat behind it was not enough to knock the prideful and proud Alex Vaughn off his self-erected pedestal. Pair the threat with such a grisly situation as this, and even the legendarily stoic _Son of Satan _would be shaking in his boots.

The door was thrown open, and the man who had done so stumbled back as he was shot several times by newly-arrived S.W.A.T forces. His wounds soon healed, however, and he readied his weapon once more, cutting his attackers down and driving them back. The Shade King reloaded his M240, sliding a fresh grenade into the chamber hooked to the underside of the weapon and launching it at the covering S.W.A.T.

"PULL BACK!" one of them shouted, and the whole group pressed further back, only to be brought down by the grenades of Shade King's men. The beast himself loaded a fresh grenade into the launcher, firing this one towards a mass of fleeing civilians, chuckling as the explosion sent them tumbling into the air. Within minutes, there was nothing left but bodies, blood, and gore. Flames burned in pockets here and there, and the entire area was covered in scattered luggage.

With sirens in the distance, the Shade King stood in the center of the room, observing his surroundings, when his eyes fell upon the cameras attached to the ceiling, he nodded towards his men, calling out the burly one who had opened the door for him, "Kenneth, help me find the security center...it's time we give our friends up north a little news update..." and he turned to face the rest of his group, "The lot of you can stay here and hold position until their reinforcements arrive. Feel free to deal with them as you wish...just so long as they don't get a chance to return home."

His group nodded silently, staking out various positions where they had a good vantage point of the only entrance and exit into the sector from their position.

The Shade King then said to himself, "No one will get away from this alive...and the blood of these people will be on Vaughn's hands. His army will regret ever questioning our superiority, our ability...and the boy himself will regret what he did to me all those years ago...I will make sure he pays for his betrayal, he will pay for it in full."


	42. Chapter XLI: Cause and Effect

_**Chapter XLI**_**:**

**-''Cause and Effect''-**

**-Vincent, Kentucky-**

**-**_**14 May 2012**_**-**

**-**_**1915 Hours**_**-**

Cynder huddled close to Alex as they neared the city of Vincent, Kentucky, the location General Elliot had sent them, too. There was a very grim feeling in the air, although they didn't know what was going on. Elliot hadn't told them much, but they could tell from what he _had _said that something very bad had happened, perhaps something that even _he _wasn't aware of. Upon reaching the city's airport, they were alarmed to see dozens of police cars and ambulances cluttering around the parking lot. The National Guard also seemed to be involved, and were either armed to the teeth and patrolling the area, or consoling sobbing citizens.

"What the hell happened?" the Commander asked.

"You there! Hold up!" a voice called out, and Alpha Company, dismounting their tank column and approaching the airport on foot, turned to spy what appeared to be a lieutenant running towards them, ordering them to hold back, "This is a crime scene, nobody is allowed through."

"We were called here by General Robert Elliot," the Commander replied, flashing his credentials, "What's going on here?"

The lieutenant's mouth twisted into a snarl of disgust, "We're not even really sure ourselves..."

As they walked towards the terminal, watching paramedics continue to rush past, carrying full bodybags on gurneys back to the ambulances, Piermont frowned, "Jesus Christ..."

"There aren't a whole lot of survivors," the lieutenant began, "But from what we've heard, a bunch of men just...walked into the joint and shot it up. No reason, no explanation, no warning, they just strolled in, armed to the teeth, and cut down anyone in their path."

"When did this happen?" Spyro asked.

"Earlier today...we've been searching the area for any trace of the terrorists but...nothing. It's like they disappeared into thin air."

"Do we have any description as to who they are or what they look like? Who are they affiliated with?"

"Not sure, the security videos have all been destroyed. All we know about the terrorists is based on what we saw smeared on the wall of the security room in the blood one one of the guards..."

"And that was...?" Piermont began.

"Just...one message, 'The Shade King has risen'...whatever that means."

Alex's blood ran cold, and he felt his heart flutter, "The Shade King?"

"Roger...you know who it is?"

The Commander frowned, "Somewhat...we've gathered some Intel from the _Maxia_...I guess the Shade King is supposed to be the new General 'Necro'."

"Wait...this was the _Maxia_?"

"I'm not sure...but if the Shade King is responsible, it sure as hell sounds like it."

"Why would President Mabao allow anything like this to happen? He may be an ass, but he doesn't seem like the kinda person to let something this horrifying happen...at least on American soil."

"Just that," Piermont grimaced, "Mabao is an ass, he's losing support in the south the longer the war goes on. Ain't surprised if he's trying to cling onto what little support he has left by scaring the living crap out of everyone."

"But to do it this suddenly and this vaguely? And why would he connect himself to it by mentioning the Shade King?" the lieutenant questioned as they entered the airport, carefully stepping over a puddle of blood and spilled baggage. There were still hundreds of bodies scattered around the terminal, covered in tarps.

"Maybe it wasn't planed, maybe the Shade King decided he wanted to spread his name around a bit to gain some notoriety...or maybe the little cunt pulled a Tartarus Unit and shot everything up for the lulz," Piermont responded.

"All I know is that this is just...nauseating..." Cynder replied, looking around uneasily, "I never would have believed that someone could possibly be so...cruel. I may have a history behind me...but even I didn't do shit like this..."

"Difference between humans and every other species on the planet," Alex replied coldly, "We're even more feral than other animals. Take away our fancy toys and gadgets, let us show our true colors...and it looks a lot like this..."

"Definitely the dark side of humanity..." the lieutenant sighed.

"You seen anything like this before?" Spyro asked.

"Negative...been in several wars and areas of conflict in my career...ain't never seen anything this horrific. Maybe I'm just biased cause this is on the homefront...it's scary."

"I wonder how anyone can think we're the bad guys in this war," Terrias replied, "Especially in the face of this. We would never do anything like this, and the fact that the _Maxia _are capable of something this horrific is proof of who the _real _evil is."

"That's why Mabao is losing support, people are finally starting to wake up and realize what is really going on. We've never done this shit before, for any reason," Alex responded, "Why would we start now? In all our fifteen years of activity this has never occurred by our hand...yet it's occurred several times in the four years since the _Maxia _came into being, although nothing of _this _magnitude. Put two and two together...and suddenly the pieces start falling into place and things start making sense."

"Bet your ass the media will cover it up, or pin the blame on us for whatever damn reason," Piermont scowled.

"Unfortunately," Terrias replied, "I don't even need to place a bet...I already know. Funny how they gloss over things that would paint the establishment in a negative light, yet they're more than willing to whore out any news that could have a negative impact on us."

"God have mercy on us..." the lieutenant sighed.

"Pretty sure that God's washed His hands of all of this bullshit," Piermont grinned darkly.

"I second that, Pierre," Terrias agreed.

Suddenly, the lieutenant paused in his tracks, tapping an earpiece and listening in. After several moments, he turned to face Alpha Company, "Sounds like we got something...they want us in the security room."

Alex and the rest of his unit stepped into the dimly lit security center, straddling the bodies of several slain guards littering the floor as they made their way to where several National Guardsmen stood around one of the few terminals that weren't damaged or broken. As they approached the group, Alex spared one look towards the grisly and cryptic message that the Shade King, or one of his cronies, had left for them on the wall. Upon reaching the terminal, they watched through the blood-smeared screen as a coarse, grisly voice, one that was all-too-familiar to Alex, spoke to them directly. At first, they were just shown muted clips of propaganda videos for Hitler's Third Reich, with that voice recorded over it, "Humanity, a pathetic insect that glorifies war and death, but is influenced and controlled by fear. Their lust for power is only surpassed by that their enjoyment of bloodshed. In many ways, humanity is nothing more than a glorified animal...but they're still a special sort of macabre. An animal rarely kills for its own enjoyment, to watch the suffering of others...I'm sure it's this reason that you cite why you consider yourself an animal, right, Alex?"

At the mention of his name, the Commander's blood ran cold. Between the two parts of his monologue, in the brief silence that followed, the archived footage cut out, showing a _very _familiar face staring at them through a camera. Jazz Jackrabbit, Alex's former _protege_, and one of the first Alpha Company members to die, having been executed by the Commander after betraying him, grinned widely towards the viewers. The bloody, green rabbit was painted in a black and white hue here due to the monochrome camera, he was clad in a bloodsoaked, one-piece body armor suit, wielding an M240 strapped across his shoulder, his ears pressed back against the back of his head, dangling down to the middle of his back, whiskers twisted and split, eyes cold, soulless, homicidal, and accusing.

"But here's his little secret...he enjoys the bloodshed, he lusts for battle...for holding the life of another man in the palm of his hand. He's a warmonger, and as much as he will try to tell you he's not, if you ask him to stop fighting, he will refuse. He may come up with an excuse why he can't, but he will refuse nevertheless. He's always been a warmonger, a killer...the true _Son of Satan_. Guess what, Alex? I'm back, and best of all? I have a few surprises waiting for you, as repayment for what you did to me all those years ago. In two days time, at approximately 0930 hours, I will arrive at New Alexandria from the south with an army of ten thousand," the rabbit grinned, "I expect to see you there, and I look forward to our reunion...to catch up on things with you, my friend...I'll see you soon."


	43. Chapter XLII: Phoenix Fall, Pt I

_**Chapter XLII**_**:**

**-''Phoenix Fall, Pt. I''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**16 May 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0922 Hours**_**-**

Terminator soldiers patrolled the ramparts upon the walls of New Alexandria in heavy concentrations. Although Alex wondered if the threat was legitimate, since no one with any desire for victory would tell the enemy exactly when and where they were going to attack, and with how many numbers on their side, he was not going to take any chances. If the Shade King had succeeded in anything, it was driving fear deep into the hearts of the Terminator forces, already war-weary and worrying about how much longer they could survive in the seemingly endless war they were trapped in.

Alex himself had lost much more sleep than he cared to admit over Jazz's threat, as did the rest of his unit. Nobody knew what to expect of him, especially after what he did with the simple plan to send a very grim message to his enemies. If he was capable of slaughtering thousands of innocent civilians in cold blood...what _else _was he capable of? The very thought worried the Commander deeply. It didn't help matters that Jazz was once his apprentice, and one of his favorites, so he knew very well what Jazz was capable of...at least what he was capable of a decade earlier. Between this and the circumstances of the rabbit's apparent resurrection, as well as the wonder if the Shade King's threat was legitimate or not, Alex's mind was a complete mess. He was heavily sleep deprived, under extreme stress, and was barely functioning, although he tried his best to maintain a calm and collected demeanor in front of Alpha Company, for fear of diminishing their already dwindling morale. Unfortunately, both Piermont and Cynder could see through his facade, although they both kept their silence on the matter. Terrias, too, appeared to have an idea about Alex's true mental and emotional state, but he hadn't said anything about it, and he didn't give any definitive confirmation that he knew.

In an attempt to alleviate his stress, Cynder had offered her services to the Commander, knowing very well that a lover's comfort was one of the best ways to help, but he had rejected her, much to her surprise and disappointment, citing that with the current tension, he was unwilling and unable to lay down his guard long enough to please her. Even though she claimed otherwise, he still was unwilling to take the risk, and had firmly, but gently, sent her on her way, further worrying the dragoness. Piermont had also tried talking to the Commander, even cornering him in private to reveal his true, vulnerable self in an attempt to help him through the situation at hand. Like with Cynder, this had been to no avail. Terrias seemed to want to talk to him, but much to Alex's relief, the servine had yet to act towards it. At least _he _understood what was going on and the need to be afraid of what to expect in the coming days.

As Jazz's stated time drew closer and closer to the present, each day rapidly ramping up the fear about the Shade King potentially lying and deciding to attack even earlier, the tension around Club Camelot and Alpha Company grew thicker and thicker, beginning to bleed out into the rest of the militia, even the grunts who knew almost nothing about the full extent of what was going on in the world. As soon as Alex had left the airport in Kentucky, _en route _back to New Alexandria, he had informed Elliot of the Shade King's identity and grim warning, and since then, the general had been busy organizing the New Alexandrian citizens and rounding them up to head back underground to safety. Surely he was bluffing though...why would anyone announce to their enemy such vivid details of a planned attack, unless they were so arrogant and narcissistic as to believe they could succeed, even with the enemy prepared? This was, of course, not necessarily out of the question, especially given Mabao's track record and Alex's recollection of Jazz's personality. It could be quite possible, too, that the _Maxia _had a secret weapon, one they didn't make public, and Jazz knew that, regardless of whether or not they were ready, he would win the battle. If _this _were the case, then he would warn New Alexandria of the attack just to fuel his own ego, he thrived off of fear and doubt, and Alex had taught him long ago that an enemy was most vulnerable when their guard was down. With Alpha Company knowing of the attack and reinforcing themselves for it, they could falsely assume that, being well prepared for the assault, they could take on the _Maxia _with ease, especially given how many times the rogue faction had tried and failed to take the city. This reassurance could then lower their defenses, damning them to defeat. Alex didn't know, and if mind games were all Jazz was after, he was succeeding.

Time and time again, Cynder, Piermont, and Elliot all told Alex not to worry too much, to take things slow but steady, to prepare and keep calm and collected, that if he remained cool, he would succeed, but their words did nothing except increase his stress.

For now, Alex stood on the southern ramparts, staring out towards the horizon as the time of Jazz's planned assault drew within minutes. New Alexandria was more fortified and prepared than ever before, but Alex felt more afraid of the looming battle than anything else in memory. Something wasn't right, there was a grimness in the air, and the Commander did not think that it was only his stress getting the better of him. Something was coming, something big, and things were going to go south very quickly, of this he was certain. He managed a grim smile at the thought that, perhaps this was the reason God never told anyone when Armageddon was going to happen...He knew that with this knowledge, Humanity would live in constant fear of Judgment Day and wouldn't be able to live their lives to the fullest, the only thing He really wanted out of his many children.

Like he always did in times of stress, Alex turned to his faith, praying for victory in the imminent battle, for the winds to be in their favor...but unlike other times...no relief fell upon his heart, and that heavy, depressive darkness remained as thick as ever. Was God even here? Or had He decided to sit this one out, to see how the Terminator Militia coped on their own for a change, the very thought that they had been abandoned by God, what Alex truly believed was their source of luck and consistent victories in this war, horrified the young man more than anything else, and he was quick to shove that thought into the depths of his mind. Thankfully, beneath his current stresses and fears, that nasty thought was quickly buried.

"You think we're gonna run into any problems?" Spyro asked, standing beside the Commander.

Alex only shook his head slowly, unable to respond, "I...I..." and his voice trailed into silence.

"Never thought I'd see the day where Alex Vaughn was _actually _afraid of something," Terrias, standing to Alex's other side, between him and Cynder, smirked.

"He can't actually pose a significant threat to us...can he?" Alex asked, more to himself than anything, "I mean...announcing his entire strategy to us two days before he plans to enact it? Surely we can hold our own against him...especially since we're more prepared than we've ever been in any other battle."

Piermont shrugged, standing behind Alex, "I remember basically nothing about Jazz...I was just a little dragonling at the time...if anyone would know what to expect out of that damned rabbit, it'd be Alex, he raised and trained him."

"That's just it," Alex replied, "Although he was almost a natural in everything I taught him, I never really got to see how his mind worked...at least until he betrayed me...that was completely unexpected. If he was able to mask his intentions from me when I scoured his mind before allowing him to join, Christ knows what _else _he hid from me. I have no idea what he thinks...everything I thought I knew about him was a lie..." then the Commander added, "It also doesn't help that I watched him die...we buried him at sea and he was...very clearly dead. I don't know how he's back, what resurrected him, and what his resurrection could have possibly done to enhance him. It took awhile, but I _was _eventually able to get into 'Necro''s mind, to see how it worked, same with the Tartarus Unit...although they were an easy nut to crack. Jazz though..." Alex shook his head, "He is easily the most dangerous foe we've ever faced...possibly more dangerous than even Mabao."

"He's already worse than everyone else we've encountered if you take that massacre into account," Spyro replied, "'Necro' sure as hell would have never done anything like that, and I doubt even the _Tartarus Unit _were capable of such a horrific crime against humanity."'

"Heh," Piermont began, snarling, "I'm surprised Mabao would let such a loose cannon command his precious army...especially seeing how much he cares about keeping up the facade with the uninformed civvies."

"Unless the screws in Mabao's head are loosening the longer this war draws out," Terrias replied grimly, "In which case, if he's becoming unhinged, he may be capable of anything and everything, just so long as he can finally take a stand against us and possibly fight back. The winds are changing, the tides are turning, and _Maxian _support is faltering. We've cornered the beast, now we get to see what it's like when it's caged."

"Shit, man..." Piermont chuckled, "You should be a fuckin' poet."

"I think it's a bit too late for a career change," Terrias responded.

"Nonsense! It's called taking a second job!"

Alex checked his watch, the calm, hot wind blowing his shoulder-length hair into his face, which he blew away with an annoyed grunt, "Well...he's running late if he wasn't bluffing."

"Negotiation tactic most likely," Terrias replied, "Keep us on edge until we wear ourselves out beneath the stress, then he'll attack..." he smiled grimly, "Bob did the same thing when it was time for a fight with another competing slaver...his way of causing the other guy to make some pretty dumb fucking mistakes to veer the game in our favor."

Suddenly, they were all sent to the ground by a crippling pain. Tinnitus ringing in their ears, their eyes spinning before them, they were assailed by Jazz's telepathic voice, _I hope you are ready...we have arrived!_

"Shit..." Piermont scowled, pointing ahead, "Over there! On the horizon!"

Pulling a pair of binoculars from nearby, Alex zoomed in where the cracked, baked, desert-like wasteland met the smoky, blood-red sky. Sure enough, they could see a regiment of _Maxian _tanks creeping towards the city walls, with thousands of infantry dispersed within its ranks. Although he had yet to see any artillery, it was likely that, in typical _Maxian _fashion, they were keeping it at the back of the front.

With a growl, Alex ordered, "Get on those turrets! Lay down suppressing fire on them..." and he tapped his earpiece, "Elliot...they've arrived."

A nearby explosion rocked everyone standing upon the wall, sending pieces of razor sharp debris digging into their skin and clothes. Pieces of the wall flaked and crumbled beneath the constant barrage of artillery and armor fire, crashing onto the rocky ground two hundred feet below. The roar of engines was loud, almost deafening, mixing with the confusion of battle, the explosion of artillery and music of gunfire. Despite this, and Alex's crippling fear that the Shade King's surprisingly aggressive combat style and behavior would collapse his army's seemingly weak organization, they held strong and steadfast against the _Maxia_, much to the Commander's relief, even though he knew it could turn around at any given moment.

"What should we do?" Cynder asked, "We can't just stay here!"

"What's the plan to fight back?" Spyro asked, and all eyes of Alpha Company turned to face their commanding officer, paralyzed and driven speechless by fear.

"Honestly...I'm not even really sure...there's bound to be something..."

"No shit, Sherlock!" Piermont hissed, "But what _should _we do? There's way too much and I don't even know where to friggin' begin!"

"That's what I'm trying to decide myself," the Commander admitted, "Just...keep shooting at them while I figure out something."

"Better think quick," Terrias began, "Our walls may be sturdy, but they won't hold long beneath this relentless onslaught. He's definitely a spry one, not afraid to get right to the point. Hell, if he weren't my enemy, might even have admired him a bit."

"Wonder if we can contact Max," Cheet began, "Maybe involve the Minecrawlers in all this..."

"Damn good idea," Piermont chuckled, "Wonder why I didn't think of it!"

"Minecrawlers?" Terrias queried.

"Yeah," the Commander began, "The same tanks you saw the _Maxia _try to attack us with when they tried to nuke the city."

"Oh...great...wait, we have them, too?"

"Yeah."

"Why the hell didn't we use them beforehand! Those things seem to possess the power to turn the tide of battle in a moment's notice! How many battles could they have helped us with in the past that we didn't bring them in?"

"Usually because those behemoths can't move on their own," Piermont interrupted, "And unless the solar energy streams are in ideal conditions between us and Swizzle Firma...that's the planet the Minecrawlers are from...they're nothing more than giant friggin' paperweights. They're powered solely by harnessed solar energy, without enough energy going to them, and without ideal atmospsheric conditions, they're worthless."

"What Piermont said," Alex replied, "Trust me, we're trying to figure out how to remove their reliance without affecting their ability in combat...no luck right now."

"So how do we know everything's ideal right now?"

"Because it's that time of year," Alex chuckled grimly, and he tapped his earpiece, trying to mask his worry, "Elliot...can you contact Max and see if we can get the Minecrawlerls down here? These guys are putting up one hell of a fight."

"I'll see what I can do, Vaughn," the general responded.

Suddenly, their minds were assailed once more by Jazz's voice, _Well, it looks like you boys have been hard at work since the last time I was here. Quite the city you have here, _and he chuckled a deep, gritty, corpse-like rattle, _Demolitions always intrigued me...tearing through your walls will be the highlight of this battle!_

"Where is he at?" Spyro said bitterly, "Whatever we do, we can't let him in! Alex, I _really _hope you have a plan, because I have nothing..."

"I'm working on it," Alex hissed, "Just...give me a moment."

"We don't have that much time!"

"I'm trying as hard as I can! I don't see _you _trying to think of something!"

"I'm trying to, but I'm not experienced in any of this!"

"Then why the hell did I put you in charge as my second-in-command!?" another earth-shaking rumble knocked them unsteadily around, and once they had regained their footing, they were startled by a massive chunk of the wall crashing down to the ground, leaving a fifty foot wide, impassable gap in the ramparts.

"First things first, we should probably get off this damn wall before we find ourselves going down Disney villain style!" Terrias spat, and Alpha Company made a break for the stairs leading down onto the dirt street of the southern agricultural district.

Spyro and Cynder began to make a run back for the city, only to be called down by Alex, "Wait! Where the hell are you going!? We can't fall back! We need to hold the line!"

"As much as I would like to agree with you, Alex," Terrias interrupted, "These walls aren't going to hold long against the _Maxia_...our best bet is to pull back to the inner city, blow the bridge, and hope that the Sentinel turrets we constructed around the farms down here can pester them long enough until we can come up with a viable plan."

Alex's radio buzzed, and Elliot said, "All right, it'll be anywhere from three to five hours, but we will have the Minecrawlers down here soon."

"Not soon enough!" Alex hissed, "We can't stand against them for three to five hours, we need support _NOW!_"

"I've sent an S.O.S to Fort Dane on Martaan, hopefully we'll get a response and Beta Company will drop by soon. For now, hold them back as long as you can, but if things look like they aren't gonna hold, then start falling back to the inner city. It's not worth losing all of Alpha Company, or even one of you bastards, just to hold back some crazy fucking rabbit on a power trip. Worse comes to worse, we blow the bridge and they have to find a way to cross the lake to reach us, we should have our support by the time they'd find a way across."

As they had feared, it didn't take long for the walls to crumble and collapse beneath the nearly continuous barrage against them, and within the hour, the _Maxia _had almost breached the walls into the inner city. In response, Terminator forces had established heavily fortified defensive points in the agricultural district between the outer walls and the Everett Bridge that connected it to the Inner City walls, which enclosed the island upon which the city proper sat. In the event that the _Maxian _forces managed to fight through these points, more defensive positions had been established on the entire expanse of the bridge, hoping to repel them, or at least hold the fort until reinforcements from Beta Company, or preferably the City Minecrawlers, arrived to aide in the defense.

Alpha Company had pulled back across the bridge, guarding the gate in the inner walls, all hoping that Jazz and his forces didn't make it that far. If the _Maxia_'s surprising momentum continued, however, Jazz's army would be upon them within a few hours. Adding insult to injury, the rearmost numbers in the _Maxian _front, unharmed by the hard-pressed Terminator defenders, had circled the city and were commencing an attack on the lesser defended north side of the city, hoping to flank them. In reponse to this, most of the friendly forces still within the confines of the city proper were quickly making their way towards the northern agricultural district, across the Sanders Bridge, setting up as many defensive lines across the northern reaches of the city's boundaries as they could. As of the moment, however, the outlook did not look promising. Although Jazz's forces didn't seem to be as large as the Hermann-Reid 1st Armoured Division's initial party, they were much more aggressive, efficient, and strategically placed, proving that Jazz knew more and was much more skilled as a commander than the Tartarus Unit and even General 'Necro' to some degree.

While the Terminator defenders struggled to hold the _Maxia _back in the agricultural districts on the city's outskirts, they waited impatiently for reinforcements, although the Minecrawlers were nowhere to be found and no further updates on their status was provided. Even once Beta Company, the militia's infamous dragonrider division, began to appear in the smoky skies above the city, joining the battle, the momentum of the _Maxia_'s approach was still far too strong. More defenders were either being killed or captured than enemies were being slain, and while the Terminator numbers continued to dwindle at an alarming rate, the _Maxia_'s numbers only seemed to grow. Truly, Jazz was hellbent on taking the city or die trying, and without the careful consideration that 'Necro' was notorious for, or the complete ineptitude of the Tartarus Unit, the former Alpha Company soldier would succeed, even if it meant a Pyrrhic victory for his troops. The same thought was shared by Alpha Company and no doubt the rest of the Terminator forces. Either way, one side was not going to be able to walk away from the battle.

Alex's radio was abuzz with distressed cries from other unit commanders, all passing on grim news. At the highlight of it all, the _Maxia _had almost penetrated _both _outer walls, and the Terminator forces maybe had ten to fifteen minutes before the _Maxia _stepped foot in the crop fields. Elliot was frantic over the line, furious and bitter, "Hold position at all costs!" he howled, "We cannot afford to retreat!"

Another unit commander replied, "We hold position and _none _of us are returning to the city alive! If we can thicken the concentration of our numbers at any of the major chokepoints into the inner city, we may stand a chance against the _Maxia_, we'll counter with mass attacks if we have to."

"Once the _Maxia _penetrate the walls, if they are allowed to advance unchallenged," Elliot responded, "Then they'll bring their armor and artillery in with them, and those barrages _will _rip our numbers to shreds! We stand a greater chance remaining scattered about than clustered together!"

"We're already being ripped to shreds out here! Most of our companies have already lost half of their men!"

"Hold position!" Elliot roared, "Do not retreat! Repeat! DO _NOT _RETREAT!"

Alex doubled over as an intense pain ripped through his abdomen, his ears rang, and Jazz assaulted him once again, _You will have the pleasure of watching your downfall, helpless as your army is reduced to nothing...and I will _personally _ensure you have the blessing of outliving every single one of your comrades...consider it as a favor, the last vestige of our former friendship. Can you feel it? The clock is ticking, we are drawing ever closer to the Terminator Militia's overdue destruction. Tick tock tick tock..._

Once he had largely recovered from the mental attack, Alex, smiling grimly, jabbed back, _How about you shove your way through the rest of your buddies and come face me man-to-man, instead of hiding behind your grunts._

_In due time...we _do _have unfinished business after all._

_Yes, I still have to kill you._

_Oh, I assure you, it won't be _you _who is doing the killing, by nightfall, this city _will _be _mine_!_

Alex picked himself up unsteadily, tottering uneasily when his vision flickered red and heat rushed to his head, nearly sending him to the ground again. Suddenly, there was a low, almost mechanical thud, followed by a sound like lightning played in reverse. The world flickered white around them, and from out of the sky, accompanied by an almost deafening mechanical ring, several columns of white light shot from the clouds, impacting on the earth with a loud, dull bang just outside of the city...the Minecrawlers had arrived at last. As soon as they arrived, the eerie, mechanical, drone-like, pulsating rumble of their engines filled the air, drowning out almost every other sound. Even from what was likely miles upon miles away, they could see the top halves of the immense tanks towering above the walls, mostly obscured by the heavy cloud cover.

A wide grin split across Alex's face, and he roared in victory, pumping his rifle into the air, "URA! About bloody damn time!"

"Fuckin' A!" Piermont howled, hooting and hollering.

"What the hell is that!?" Spyro asked, alarmed.

"_THOSE _my friend, are the motherfuckin' Minecrawlers!" Piermont exclaimed excitedly, "That queer-ass rabbit is _FUCKED _now, _hombres!_"

They looked around them, spying a number of Minecrawlers encircling the city, visible even beyond the chain of peaks defending the east and west sides of the city.

"How many you think we got?" Piermont asked.

"Six or seven by the looks of things..." Alex chuckled, "Max spared no expense."

"Thank Christ!"

_So... _Jazz began, this time over the entire mutual mind bank, audible to everyone connected, _You decided to throw down your aces early... _he chuckled darkly, that airy, gritty rattle, as chilling as nails on a chalkboard, vibrating in their heads long after it had been emitted, _Well...I guess it's time I play some cards of my own...I was originally going to save this for a rainy day but...well, you've forced my hand, to say the least._

A sinking feeling enveloped everyone in Alpha Company, who exchanged uneasily glances with each other, "What the hell is he talking about?" Spyro asked uneasily.

"He better be bluffing..." Terrias replied.

"He has to be," Alex replied, although the doubt in his voice was obvious, "There is no way he can stop the Minecrawlers...especially a half dozen of them..."

_Tell me, friends... _the rabbit began once more, _Do you remember the ARK? _And he sent painful, searing hot images of the Tartarus Unit's answer to the _Ring _surging through their brains and before their eyes, _Well, I've decide to make some...personal improvements to the initial blueprints..._ and their minds were assaulted with another series of painful images, these ones depicting what appeared to be mini satellites orbiting around, just inside of the _Ring_, somehow evading its autoturret defenses, programmed to fire upon anything with an ID that was blacklisted by the weapon's programmers, including anything and everything sent into Earth from the United States from 2008 or later. _In about...oh...five minutes, you will see our little...side project...in action, it's first field test...quite impressive I daresay. Let's see if everything triggers as planned, one can only hope... _and with this, they were shown clips of the small, capsule-like satellites opening up into a spider-like shape, absorbing sunlight with unfolding solar panels and focusing it into a blinding, golden beam that fired continuously at any given point on Earth's surface until it floated to the dark side of planet or an obstacle moved between it and the sun, weakening the beam to nonexistence.

"He can't be telling the truth!" Spyro exclaimed, "These things are unstoppable right?"

"Yes, they are," Alex replied, "And impenetrable...there's a reason why we use the same alloy to plate our machines...and it's not thin like the _Maxia_'s half-assed Minecrawler awhile back, the armor is easily ten feet thick...that's one of the major things that contribute to these behemoths' weight."

_Then God said, let there be light... _Jazz chuckled.

Instantly, the sky brightened to almost deafening capacity, forcing everyone, all the defenders, and evne the _Maxia_, to cover their eyes. A sound like white noise drowned out every other, even the roar of the Minecrawlers, and Alex could faintly watch a blinding, golden beam shoot from the sky, stabbing through and dissolving the cloud cover, striking down on one of the closer Minecrawlers, adding another sound to the mix, this one like a blow torch slicing through steel.

_...And then...there was light, _Jazz finished, his gritty chuckle dissolving into maddened laughter. A dull, earth-shaking explosion, sounding more like a cannon firing than anything else, resounded through the still air, summoning a brief but powerful sandstorm from the desert, sending it and a powerful shockwave rocking through the city, knocking everyone off of their feet and setting off numerous car alarms in the city proper. In horror, Alpha Company watched, jaws dropped, as the beam weakened until nothing, leaving behind a circular opening in the sky which poured golden sunlight and exposed the blue skies that nobody in New Alexandria had seen for years, which served to illuminate the afflicted Minecrawler, glowing a brilliant, golden red and collapsing into massive chunks of molten steel, each striking the ground with another quake-like rumble._ What's that? _Jazz taunted, _An encore you say? I wholeheartedly agree! _And several more beams of concentrated sunlight fired down on the remaining Minecrawlers, having a similar effect on both the sky and cloud cover, and the once thought to be invulnerable machines. One of the beams clipped through the entire rear half of one of the Minecrawlers, cutting it partially in two. When only two surviving Minecrawlers remained, they were abruptly whisked away from the battle, morphing into white beams of light and rocketing back into the sky with a mechanical hum and zap.

"We're...we're fucked...aren't we..." Terrias began, voice hopeless.

"Oh my God..." Piermont managed, stunned.

_Now... _the Shade King continued, _I cannot be a king without a castle and a kingdom. So, instead of destroying yours, like I was originally planning, I think I'll take it for myself, the spoils of war..._

"Jesus Christ..." Elliot forced in a harsh, alarmed, and possibly even frightened whisper over the radio.

"E...Elliot...?" Alex began, "The Minecrawlers..."

"I know...I saw it from here..." the general replied, voice truly sounding hopeless and insignificant, weak, "I'll see about getting the _Ring _to try and destroy those things...there's a dozen of them now floating around in the earth's atmosphere, I don't know why we didn't see them before. It is _imperative _that you drive the _Maxia _back! Hopefully once we destroy those weapons, we can bring the Minecrawlers back..."

But he was interrupted by another dull bang, echoing on the wind, like the collapse of a massive building. Instantly, the radio was abuzz with a flurry of horrified expressions from various surviving commanders, "They've breached our perimeter! Our walls have been destroyed!"

"They've shattered the walls and are marching into the agricultural district!"

"They've broken through!"

"They're coming at us from everywhere!"

"There's too many of them!"

"We can't hold them back! Abort! Abort!"

"We're taking too much damage! Retreat! Pull back to the bridge!"


	44. Chapter XLIII: Phoenix Fall, Pt II

_**Chapter XLIII**_**:**

**-''Phoenix Fall, Pt. II''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**16 May 2012**_**-**

**-**_**1344 Hours**_**-**

Alex listened grimly to the frantic cries on his radio. Most of the voices that had reported on the _Maxia_'s breach had long-since fallen silent, and radio chatter was eerily sparse. Only a few voices remained, usually in harsh or pained whispers, praying heavily. Somebody was broadcasting a number of biblical verses over the line, most likely to try and ease everyone, but there were a stark few personalities to receive them, and those that could were beyond saving by any sort of practical or even divine means...they were on their own.

Across the bridge, Alex could see the _Maxia _slicing cleanly through the Terminator defenses, making significant, rapid process towards the inner walls. It wouldn't be long before they reached the city proper. Most of the Sentinels established around the agricultural district either failed to activate or were destroyed or fatally damaged before they could do anything, and the _Maxia _were advancing unabated.

"Alex...is there anything we can do?" Cynder asked, sounding very worried.

"To be honest..." the Commander began, "I'm not even sure..."

"C'mon," Spyro interrupted, "We can't just sit here and let them do this! There's gotta be some way to stop them!"

_Have you finally accepted your fate? Your destiny? _Jazz taunted them, _Excellent! It will make killing you all the easier!_

_We're not going down without a fight, so come get me you P.O.S!_ Alex telepathically roared in response, _We're waiting!_

_Soon, very soon... _the rabbit replied back.

As soon as the first of the _Maxian _tanks appeared on the horizon the numerous automated defense systems established along the inner walls, rarely utilized, came to life, firing towards the approaching army. Mingling with this, Terminator defenders ran along the length of the wall, anti-tank crews taking down any vehicles that came into view while HMGs and snipers busied themselves with picking off the advancing infantry. Occasionally, _Maxian _artillery would blast the walls, but they were thicker, even if shorter, than the outer walls, they had seen less battle than the outer ones, and as such were more resistant against the shelling than the outer walls had been.

_How does it feel, watching as your kingdom is taken away from you inch by inch...piece by piece. Soon, you will be left with nothing!_

_At least if I die, I will die a martyr!_

_No, we won't kill you directly, even then, your martyrdom will mean little...history is determined by the victor, and _we _will be the victors! You will be the traitors that betrayed your allies to appease your greed. The lies and exaggerated truths will be all that remains of your legacy, just like you intended for me!_

_And this is why I fully intend to win this battle and this war._

_The odds hardly seem in your favor, but cling to your little, feeble hope! By the time the sun sets upon this day, your city will be mine!_

_Ask the Hermann-Reid how well that went._

Jazz chuckled, _We are beyond the capabilities of even the Hermann-Reid, Commander, as you shall soon see for yourself! _and he severed the contact with a telepathic laugh.

Although resistance was thick, it took less than an hour before the _Maxia_'s seemingly limitless numbers punctured the inner walls, driving the Terminator forces further back. Now fighting in the streets of the southern Business District, the majority of Terminator soldiers had taken to the skyscrapers to set up defensive positions, pestering the _Maxian _forces who were being forced to deal with obstacles that the Terminators had created throughout the city in an effort to halt the _Maxian _advancement should they penetrate the exterior defenses and the Terminators found themselves unable to keep the opposition out of the city.

Alpha Company was retreating back towards Town Center, having been ordered by Elliot to help reinforce the command post there. While they ran, artillery and gun fire rained down around them, and Alex was startled by a female voice telepathically calling him, _Don't give up! You can succeed! You can win! I have faith in you!_

"What...?" he began, wincing as a mortar crashed down beside him, raining razor-sharp and searing hot chips of concrete upon them.

_Go on! You can do it!_

_Who are you?_

But the voice fell silent, and Alex was knocked to the ground, ears ringing, by a nearby mortar. Vaguely, he could hear Cynder call out his name, and he could see the she-dragon running up to him, helping him up, "They're breaking through!" she began, sound snapping back into place, "We need to go!"

"But I..." and Alex shook his head, wondering what had happened.

Upon regrouping in Town Center, with Alex distracted and pondering over what he had experienced, Spyro was standing at the front of the crowd, desperately trying to calm everyone down. Tensions were very high, everyone was high-strung, and almost everybody there was on the edge of panic. Although they were all mostly well experienced in combat, something this sudden and drastic was entirely unexpected. The shock of the _Maxia_'s momentum and the loss of the thought-to-be indestructible Minecrawlers likely didn't help. Spyro tried to call everyone under control, but he was ignored by the rapidly talking and horrified crowd, testing his patience. With a scowl, he turned to Alex and attempted to get through to the Commander, hoping he would do something to help. Instead, Alex only stared off, expression blank and absent.

"C'mon, Alex! Snap out of it! I need help here!"

When the young man still didn't respond, Spyro walked up to him, lowering his head and forcefully pushing his horns into Alex's stomach. The Commander briefly broke from his trance long enough to shove the dragon back with a grunt, and as Spyro approached him once again, Cynder slithered in between the two, calling her dragonian mate down. "Leave him be, Spyro," she said.

"All hell is breaking loose and he's too out of it to do anything! I can't run this crap by myself!"

"Then why did he make you his second-in-command?" Terrias smirked, "Time to prove yourself."

"But...nobody's listening to me!"

"Make them!"

With a sigh, Spyro approached the frightened crowd once again, and with a powerful, booming roar that instantly silenced everyone, turning their attentions to him, he snarled, "Listen up! We need to remain calm or else we stand no chance of survival against the _Maxia_!"

"We stand no chance anyway!" a voice called out from the crowd.

"Not with that attitude we won't! We've escaped through countless scrapes before! Surely we can get out of this, too! But _ONLY _if we keep our heads on straight! The more we panic, the worse things will only get! So calm your asses and let's figure something out here! They can't keep going on forever! _Eventually_, they'll run out of guys and ammunition."

"Not if we run out first!" and the crowd erupted into cries of agreement.

"All right, that's it, I'm tired of playing subtle. We _WILL _fight back, and we _WILL _keep our heads on straight! Got it? Anyone who doesn't will be left to die on that battlefield. You will fight to the death, or we will just cut you loose ourselves! We can't afford for anyone to step out of line, we will fight back, and we will succeed, but only if we keep ourselves under control!"

The dragon was then interrupted by a barrage of _Maxian _artillery strikes upon them, scattering the group every which way. "Stay together!" Spyro exclaimed in a panicked tone, "Stay together!" but when nobody listened to him, he swore, running back towards the south, where a group of _Maxian _infantry were breaching the hastily established perimeter. Town Center's two automated Sentinel turrets emerged from their bunkers through the concrete 'caps' over the silo-like pits within which they lay, proceeding to activate, ensuring that the skies remained clear of _Maxian _bombers and gunships, commencing flybys over the plaza.

_You fools _still _think you can resist me? Cute... _Jazz taunted, _But go ahead, keep fighting! Try as you might, in the end, I will succeed either way. If you kill yourselves in a feeble attempt to stop me, that's one less thing I will have to worry about!_

"Spyro..." Cynder suddenly began, turning to face her mate, "Do you think we should pull back?"

"If we pull any further back," Spyro replied, "We'll only lose more ground to the _Maxia_, and they'll get stronger! Especially if they take our Sentinels down! Sometimes, you just have to stand your ground!"

"Even if we die here?"

"Even if we die here..."

After several minutes of harsh words, Spyro finally managed to gain some semblance of order over the group, and even though Alex remained quiet and distant, he had joined the fight once again as well. Now collected, the Terminator forces haphazardly organized themselves, fighting back against the _Maxian _forces now intermingled with them, making it different to tell friend from foe.

Alex, swords drawn, had resorted to close quarters combat. Such close proximity to one another made it difficult and unsafe for _both _parties to use their rifles. Thankfully, he was adept at swordsmanship and found the odds, at least for now, in his favor. The more he fought, the more he found himself numbing, until eventually, he found himself no longer stressed or worried, but completely numb and in tune with his environment. Much like his time with _Devha_, he allowed the instinct of combat to take over, and he fought effectively with little effort. Smiling faintly at the realization that the _Son of Satan_ still hadn't left him, he succumbed to his blood lust, ruthlessly cutting the _Maxia _down around him until he was painted red in the blood and gore of those unfortunate enough to meet his blade. He was eventually startled from his zen-like state when his blade clanged against solid steel, and he found himself staring into the cold, soulless eyes of his former apprentice.

"So...we meet again after all these years..." Jazz chuckled, "You've hardly changed since then, have you?"

Alex frowned, "Is this really necessary? What the hell did we do to deserve this?"

"This is repayment for your crimes!"

"You betrayed me!" Alex roared, "Tried to have me killed, tried to turn me into 'No-Tongue'! You're fate was well-deserved!" and with a scream, the Commander slashed upwards towards the rabbit."

Jazz ducked out of the way of the attack, swinging his own blade beneath the Commander's arm and impaling him through the stomach. The rabbit stepped back, kicking Alex off of the sword and violently shaking the blade to clean it of his blood. Alex stumbled backwards, doubling over, blue sparks danced across his injuries, and Jazz frowned, "So...it _was _true," he smirked, "You found a cure for your weakness to silver...a shame really."

Cynder charged towards Jazz from behind, the rabbit only spun around, grabbing the dragon by the throat in mid-leap and throwing her to the ground, pressing the point of his sword to her throat.

"It's me you want..." Alex groaned, standing up and retrieving his dropped blade, "Leave her out of this."

"You almost sound like you care..." and the rabbit swiftly brought the blade across Cynder's throat, slicing a shallow cut across it and causing her to cry out in alarm, drawing blood, "You managed to find love? I guess even the worst of monsters have _some _sorry sap willing to spread for them...the fact that you would claim a creature that isn't human is only a testament to how pathetic and weak you really are! Taking advantage of a creature that doesn't even know better...quite low, even for you."

With a roar of fury, Alex sliced forward in an upward, vertical motion, which Jazz fluidly dodged with a cackle, "You don't know jack, you sorry son of a bitch!"

The rabbit countered, knocking the Commander's blade away and swiping his feet out from beneath him. With Alex on the ground, the rabbit placed the sword to his former master's throat when Cynder's voice called out, "Or perhaps a better theory...I actually love him!" Jazz barely had time to react as the she-dragon pounced upon him from behind, sinking her teeth into his neck and clawing his back.

With a growl, Jazz dislodged her, throwing her aside. With a grim, gritty snicker, he asked, "And who, may I ask, initiated the relationship?"

"She did," Alex hissed, picking himself up on unsteady legs.

"Ooh!" the rabbit remarked, "Seems we have a bit of a plot twist on our hands...no matter, _both _of you will go to the grave together, I assure you."

By now, several soldiers in the militia had gained up on the rabbit, who was now struggling to avoid and counter them all. As he was about to be overwhelmed, he emitted a booming growl and a powerful burst of fire shot from his body, exploding around him and sending everyone, including Alex and Cynder, dazed to the ground, nearing the edge of consciousness, their ears ringing. Around them, the Commander watched as Jazz killed the survivors with a swift stab of his blade into their writhing, screaming bodies.

"You are a monster..." Alex managed through a hoarse voice.

"Nothing more than you," the rabbit smirked, "You and your army deserve everything you get here."

_Maxian _Elite Ops units flooded into Town Center, encircling the scattered and dazed Terminator forces, all taking aim at the survivors. Reluctantly, they surrendered, with Alex being the last one to raise his arms in defeat.

This only widened Jazz's grin, who simply replied, "I won," before turning to face the five men standing behind him, hugely built and easily seven to eight feet tall, obviously overdosed on the mutation serum, "Capture them, take them to our outpost...I'm not finished with them yet..." then to the rest of the group, "As for the lot of you, finish taking the city, there's not much left, I'll report to President Mabao."

Alex stood to fight back once more, only to be shoved to the floor and kicked in the stomach, grounding him once again. Still catching his breath, Alex was forced to stand by two of the _Maxian _juggernauts, dragged away from Town Center and away from his comrades.

Alex was taken to the _Maxia_'s command post just outside of the burning city, bound and gagged. Separated from his comrades, he only knew that they were alive through the mind bank, nothing else, and he found the _Maxian _invaders celebrating with alcohol in the aftermath of the battle, and their victory, catcalling and spitting upon him. Upon reaching the center of the compound, and he was thrown forcefully to the ground, smacking his teeth against his tongue, drawing blood. The juggernauts walked away, stepping aside to watch as the drunken defenders kicked and beat him relentlessly, and he, through his binds and mildly sedated, was unable to defend himself. He drowned them out, trying to find some vacant corner of his mind that he could retreat to. He knew that Jazz was going to make his stay with the _Maxia _a living hell, but he wouldn't end it early, no, he would draw it out until the Commander could take no more, then the rabbit would begin inflicting the fatal wounds, in such a slow manner that he would suffer even as he died.

If Jazz was capable of what he did to those civilians, people who had done nothing to wrong him, people he had nothing against...what would the rabbit do to someone he absolutely despised? The sheer possibilities were frightening enough as it were, and that was only what came to Alex's immediate mind. Jazz was always creative in what he did and how he did things...it was here that the Commander suddenly feared the worse...what would the vengeful rabbit due to his brothers? His mates? He feared what the drunken men of the _Maxia _Regime would do to their female, Alpha Company captives...although it was Cynder that Alex feared for the worst...Sure she was one of the strongest in the militia, he was safe to call her one of his generals...but what _would _they do to her as punishment for her resilience? She was strong, she could resist them, and he knew that she would. To what lengths would they go to break her?

Snarling through his abuse, maintaining his silence and doing whatever he could to distract his mind while it occurred, he only prayed that it would end soon, that something would happen at the last minute to save them, much like things had in the past. Who really knew, however, how things would go? Everyone's luck eventually runs out, and they had used plenty of luck in the past few years. Would this finally be the event that would break them? Did all of their hard work over the years come down to this?


	45. Chapter XLIV: Exodus

_**Chapter XLIV**_**:**

**-''Exodus''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**16 May 2012**_**-**

**-**_**2010 Hours**_**-**

Bloody, beaten, and bruised, the blue sparks of healing dancing across his broken body, mending the injuries dealt upon him by his _Maxian _attackers, Alex was dragged across the city, through waves of horrified civilians and scornful enemy soldiers, being led towards Town Center. In an effort to humiliate him, the Commander had been stripped naked, tied to the back of a car, and dragged across the paved streets around town for an hour before they had decided to take him to the occupied heart of New Alexandria. His mutations prevented the comfort of death, instead exhausting him as they worked constantly to repair his wrecked form, beginning to sap at his very life force due to overuse. Upon arrival in Town Center, finding it packed with shepherded civilians, captured Terminator soldiers, and the occupying _Maxian _forces, Alex was picked up and forced to walk through the crowds, still nude, constantly being harassed by them.

Ever since they had capitulated, Alex had not seen Alpha Company, and he worried deeply for the safety of his comrades, even while he secretly wished for death. Media outlets were soon escorted into the crowd as well, and Jazz forced Alex into a kneeling position on a hastily erected raised platform in the heart of the square. Gagged, bound, and forced to watch as he was mercilessly, verbally abused, spiced with a few hearty kicks or punches from his captives, the Commander tried his best to distance himself from the present, to find somewhere he could go to escape from the hell he was dealing with.

"This is your 'noble' Commander Alex Vaughn!" Jazz laughed, his voice carrying, unassisted, throughout the deafening crowd, "Nothing more than a pathetic little human being with a carnal appetite for the four-legged beasts of the earth! A foolish little man who thought himself to be a king, a god, among beasts, but is nothing more than an abusive little prick and a warmongering megalomaniac! Now...if I had my way, I would kill him, make his suffering long, drawn out, as painful as you can possibly imagine...a punishment for his crimes against not only the American people, but the very nature of the world! Unfortunately, I answer to President Mabao, and as such, this insect's fate, and the fate of his friends, will be up to the will of the president. Just remember who has been the one that has caused this nation nothing but constant grief. This man has slayed thousands of American soldiers, he has scorched and scarred the planet, single-handedly initiated a mass-extinction event, committed mass genocide...he is barbaric, insane, and undeserving of life. He shall forever be known as one of the cruelest military dictators in the history of warfare, joining the ranks of Adolf Hitler, Mao Zedong, Emperor Nero, Genghis Khan, Vlad the Impaler, Ivan the Terrible, and Josef Stalin!"

"Alex!" Cynder interrupted, and they turned to watch as the she-dragon, being dragged through the square, broke free from her captors and made a run for the Commander. Jazz was instantly between them, grabbing her from the air and struggling to subdue her, she slashed at his face, tearing into his right eye and causing the rabbit to hiss, throwing her to the ground and shooting her several times in the stomach.

The Commander couldn't respond, only squeeze his eyes shut and force himself to look away.

"Too bad that won't kill you..." the rabbit muttered under his breath, and he turned to address the crowd once again, "I want each and everyone one of you to remember this moment, this day. I want you all to remember this victory that we share, where after three years, we finally overthrew the evilest man to tread the earth in modern history. Unfortunately, I don't know what fate President Mabao has planned for them...but I can assure you that by the time it's over, they will plead for death...and never receive its welcoming mercy. Now, I pose a question to you all. How many of you are loyal to this man and his damned regime?"

Countless civilians in the crowd raised their hands, and almost all of the Terminator soldiers who had been captured.

Jazz snarled, "So be it...I expect you to be out of my city by daybreak. We have no need for any sympathizers to this perverted bastard! Those of you who do not side with him are free to live as you please in this city, you are free to continue your daily routines, although, if you find it necessary to say goodbye to your sympathetic neighbor, do it while you have the chance. Anyone who remains loyal to the Terminator Militia and is not out of the city by 0800 hours tomorrow morning will be incarcerated...and potentially executed. As such, we are lifting curfew for tonight so that you may leave on your own time...now begone!" he then turned to face the soldiers standing to either side of him, "Get them out of my sight before I destroy that deal."

Once more, Alex was forcefully grabbed and dragged through the square, where a group of _Maxian _transports had recently arrived on scene. He was thrown into the back of one of the vehicles, along with Cynder, Terrias, Spyro, Simba, Cheet, Rudolph, Sonic, and four _Maxian _Elite Ops soldiers shortly before the door was slammed and bolted shut from the outside. As the vehicle took off, heading somewhere unknown, Cynder gently crawled over to the Commander, curling around him and nuzzling him affectionately, purring. Terrias and Simba, too, approached Alex, surrounding him, while Cheet, although no longer a cub, still hopped into his friend's lap, laying down and purring. The young man himself said nothing, only leaned weakly against the side of the vehicle, face covered in blood and mud, nearly unrecognizable through his injuries.

Terrias sat down beside his friend, throwing an arm around Alex and pulling him close. Cynder herself only nuzzled him even more, her purring becoming louder as her body became hotter to the touch. _Are you okay? _Terrias asked him telepathically.

_I just...I want to die... _the Commander replied, voice so quiet and childlike that at first the snivy could not believe it belonged to him.

_Everything will be okay, _Cynder replied, attempting to calm him, _Don't worry...everything will be okay..._


	46. Chapter XLV: Prison Break

_**Chapter XLV**_**:**

**-''Prison Break''-**

**-Merriwether Maximum Security Prison: Nashville, Tennessee-**

**-**_**17 May 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0333 Hours**_**-**

Alex was awakened abruptly by the slamming open of the transport's door. He sheltered his eyes against the blinding light outside from the prison spotlights, and flashlights of the guards shining in his face. One by one, he and his companions were thrown out of the vehicle and onto the cold, wet, asphalt ground. Rain was pouring down around them, thunder bellowed in the distance, and occasionally the cloudy skies would be illuminated by a brief blast of lightning.

"Get up!" a nearby voice snarled, and he was forced into a standing position, shoved forward into the prison's depths. He was surrounded in a cluster of his comrades, who were surrounded by a large group of _Maxian _juggernauts, and although the Commander was mostly numb from sedatives he had been given during their trip here, he was vaguely aware of, not just the rest of Alpha Company, but something else as well.

"Where did the president want to meet us?" one of the guards asked.

"Change of plans, he decided that these cunts are to be taken directly to the prison instead," the same guard who had forced Alex to his feet replied.

"Shoulda just left them back in the Quads, let the Shade King take care of 'em. He's craving revenge anyway, let him get it while scaring the crap out of the civvies in the process."

"The Shade King is busy cleaning up his 'kingdom', according to him."

The man sighed, "Jesus Christ...letting the power get to his head."

"I wouldn't let Command here you say that...but yeah, I agree."

"So what are you doing with us then?" Alex chuckled grimly, "You know we'll find a way out...we're mutants, you can't stop us."

"Shut it!" the guard hissed, whacking Alex's face with the butt of his assault rifle, "We've got plans for you faggots."

"Charming...although I'm zoophilic, not gay," and he grinned widely, answered with another disorienting whack.

"Quiet before I cut out your tongue!"

"Then you'll have to call me 'No-Tongue' from now on..." he chuckled darkly, turning to face Cynder, who slowly shook her head, calling him off. With a reluctant grunt, he fell silent as they were escorted through the prison lobby and into what appeared to have been a repurposed death row, two were allowed per cell, and they shared the same cell block. Incarcerated and left alone, Alex collapsed onto the bed, rubbing his temples, "Well...this isn't how I anticipated my night would go."

"Isn't so bad," Terrias, who was sharing a cell with Alex, replied, "It's not like we lost our capital, were captured by the _Maxia_, lost countless, irreparable numbers of our men, are being stalked by the meanest son of a bitch we've ever encountered, and are now currently sitting on death row with the whole country hating us."

Alex glared at the snivy, who simply shrugged.

"Could be much worse."

"Now's not really the time for sarcasm, Terrias..." Spyro said, shaking his head.

"Who says I'm being sarcastic? Things really _could _be much worse than they are."

"Things look pretty bad from where I'm standing," Cynder added.

"Bah! You guys are just pessimistic," the snivy continued.

"Do _you _have a plan for getting out of here?"

"No, but I'm trying to think of one, which is what we should _all _be doing instead of sitting here woefully, waiting for the headsman. So...anyone have any ideas?"

"The only way I can think of us getting out of here is some kinda divine intervention, _deus ex machina_ crap."

"C'mon, Alex, be a little more creative than that?"

"I'm not really the creative type..."

"Well, I'm sure your girlfriend would beg to differ."

"I'm not his girlfriend," Cynder replied, "We just have a...mutual respect...for one another."

"Wasn't talking about you, Cyn. Surely he had to come up with _some _creative reason to explain your guys' intimacy to Sarah."

Alex glared at him once again.

"Wow...you really fed it to her raw? Ouch...I'm surprised she took it so well."

"She didn't."

"Oh...I'll just...eh...shut up now."

"Good idea."

"So what _do _we do?" Spyro asked, attempting to realign the conversation.

"Wonder if there's a way we can trigger some kinda prison riot..." Cheet suggested, "Get out in the chaos. I saw other inmates here, so it's not like this place is strictly a P.O.W camp..."

"Yeah, but if the guards will be keeping an eye on _someone _during a riot, it'd be us...we're the most valuable and most dangerous detainees here," Cynder replied, "Although good suggestion nevertheless."

"Maybe..." Terrias began, "If there's a way we can distract the guards with something big, we can slip out in the brief time we'll have before they begin to notice our absence."

"What do you mean?" Alex asked.

"Say for example, some great big, startling event happens. If it'll distract their attention long enough, we can slip out. It won't be long, and we won't have a lot of time, but if we're quick, we can get out. Riots could work, but they'd be too big, too difficult to initiate, and there's too much time for the guards to stumble upon the plan. We need something sudden and swift, something that won't take a lot of prep time."

"If I had a way to get out of here, I could explore, see if I can find something..." Alex frowned looking around, and an idea suddenly came to mind. He reached his arm through the bars, testing to see how far he could grab before, with a sly grin, he withdrew back into the cell, "I have an idea."

_..."Will you have me?"_

_Alex opens his eyes, finding himself in a beautiful, sunlit valley. Stretching out endlessly before him is an endless see of rolling green hills, dotted with an occasional tree, and in the distance, dark peaks tower into the clouds all around him. A crystal clear creek snakes throughout the valley past him and ever onward, disappearing beneath the horizon. He observes himself, finding that he's no longer wearing the gray jumpsuit he was given shortly after his arrival at the prison, instead, he's once more completely nude, and yet, he feels fully comfortable and fine._

"_Where am I?" he asks himself, finding his voice carried into the warm breeze brushing past his bare body._

"_Don't be silly," an unfamiliar voice speaks from behind him, and he turns around to spy a shape that he can't recognize in his dreaming state. At first, it's only a light blue blur he sees, but as he squints against the sunrise to see who he's encountering, the blur begins to take shape, and he sees a familiar, yet alien face smiling back at him, "You brought us here...said there was something special you wanted to show me..." and she observed his body, "Wow...I just...was not expecting this..."_

"_I don't know where I am...where's the others?"_

"_You said you just wanted me to come alone..."_

_He looked around him once more, soon facing her once again, "Wait a minute...I know you..."_

_Before he gets a chance to respond however, she has pounced upon him, tackling him to the ground, "Well..." she begins in a teasing manner, "This is my first time so...I don't know how good I'll be..."_

_He is stunned by her sudden advance, that surprise soon dissolving into a sort of perverse joy as the female begins to orally please him._

What's happening? _he thinks to himself, shuddering beneath the female's surprisingly gentle administrations, _I can't...I can't think straight... _and beneath the pleasure, he really couldn't, it is as if his mind has shut down, and he looks around, trying to find something he could do to react, instead of sitting there, looking dull._

"_You want to play with me, too?" she giggles, "Well...I guess it's only fair..." and he finds himself staring towards the female's nether regions, overcome with an urge to taste her._

This...isn't right... _he thinks to himself again, desperately fighting the instinctual urges surging through his body, _I don't even really know you...do I?

"_Don't worry," she said, teasing him, "I won't tell anybody if you won't...this will just be our little secret..."_

_Finally, unable to resist much longer, he finally succumbs with a sigh, and as his face nears her body..._

..."Alex! Get up! Someone's coming!" Terrias' voice rings out, startling the sleeping Alex awake. In the dim light of the cell, he could barely make out the shape of the snivy's face leaning close to his, shaking him. Alex shrugged him off, sitting upon the edge of the bottom bunk of his bunk bed, rubbing his face of sleep. Hearing the sound of the cell block door shutting and footsteps approaching, Alex remembered his plan, and he quietly slipped out of bed, walking over to the bars and peering out for the sight of their visitor.

While he waited, memories of the dream kept surging through his mind. Why did he seem to know here, even though he had never seen her before in his life? She seemed familiar anyway, but he could not understand where he could have met her. Unfortunately, he found that most of the details of the dream, including what the mystery female looked like, were forgotten shortly after awakening. The strangest part of it all, was that it didn't feel as much like a dream as it did a vision. Occasionally, mutants of Alpha Company would be granted visions of future events while they slept, the greatest difference between visions and simple dreams, however, was the fact that visions were often vividly detailed, nearly hyperrealistic, and complimented each of the five senses, whereas dreams were often fuzzy, faded, and one or more senses were unresponsive to the dreamed environment at a time. This...this was different, he could clearly remember the beauty of the valley, the scent of the mountain air, the taste of the wind, like freshly mowed grass, the sound of the rushing water, the wind, and the birds chirping, and the very feel of the soft, green grass beneath his bare feet, and the warm, comfortable wind blowing across his nude body. Remembering, vaguely, what the female had been doing to him, he could also recall feeling her mouth against his body, her tongue lapping against his erection, and the female's own unique aroma, something he couldn't quite pinpoint but nevertheless seemed familiar.

This...vision..seemed almost like a hybrid between that and a dream. Visions not only triggered every sense at once, as if one was really there in the waking world, but they were also not easily forgotten, much like a waking memory. This however...like a dream...most of the details were gone the moment his eyes snapped open, forever forgotten. Now vaguely aware of that alien heartbeat once again, something he had forgotten about during recent events, all he hoped was that it wasn't the last time he'd seen the mysterious female.

Beyond the cell bars, one of the prison guards appeared, patrolling the empty halls. Gathering his courage, Alex called out, "Yo! Dumbass! There's no faggots this way, if you're looking for an anal pounding, gonna have to go back the other direction!" and he forced a bout of mad laughter. Instantly, the guard was at the door, making threats towards the prisoner, "Wanna go motherfucker? Let's do this! May not be very good at it, but I'll give you a taste of my footlong snake. Let's tango!"

The guard reacted as expected, fishing out his keys...until he suddenly stopped, chuckling grimly, "I ain't gonna fall for that shit," and he began to walk away. Within a second, Alex was against the bars, reaching through and wrapping an arm around the man's neck, pinning him against the cell door and strangling him against the bars. The man tried to call out for help, but Alex maintained the pressure until the guard finally passed out. The Commander gently lowered the guard to the floor, ripping the keyring off the man's belt and unlocking the door, swinging it open. He dragged the unconscious body into the cell, tearing off his clothes and rapidly exchanging them with the guard's uniform before loading the body into the bed he had just been sleeping in, pulling up the covers to hide most of the man's face from view.

"Sweet dreams," Alex whispered, grinning widely as he finished tucking in the unconscious guard, slipping out the open cell door, picking up the guard's dropped stun rod in the process. Turning to face his comrades, the Commander wrestled the cell key free from the ring and tossed it to Terrias, who caught it in midair and slipped it into the pocket of his jumpsuit, leaving Alex to wonder briefly why the prison would even put pockets on these jumpsuits in the first place, "I'll be back guys, gonna see if I can find a way to get us _all _out of here."

"Take us with you," Cynder replied, "We can help."

The Commander shook his head, "No, there's a higher chance of getting caught if I take anymore of you with me. Just...stay around here, Terrias has the key if things get _too _bad...I'm gonna scout out and see if I can find something to help us. Terrias, lock the door behind me, we wanna hold off arousing suspicion for as long as possible," and Alex finally left the cell, closing the cell door and running off towards the door leading into the rest of the prison. Terrias reached through the bars, latching the cell door shut and turning the key before slinking back in, slipping the key back in his pocket.

Quietly slipping into the rest of the prison, maintaining the same posture as the rest of the guards he encountered did, Alex strolled throughout the various wings of the expansive penitentiary, appearing like one of the patrols. It became quite apparent shortly after he began patrolling the upper floor blocks, that the prison was no longer functioning to house criminals, most of the men and women locked up seemed virtually harmless, and coupling that with the surprising number of _Maxian _soldiers lounging around, confirmed his fears that this was a political prison. Perhaps, once upon a time, it existed to detain true criminals, people too dangerous to walk the streets, but now all it housed were people opposed to Mabao's corrupt regime.

He reached the end of the hall, exiting the building to find himself on a suspended, caged catwalk over the prison yard fifty feet below. This path, aptly named the 'Birdcage' according to the sign just inside the building behind him, led to the water treatment facility across the prison yard, just outside of the towering stone walls. At the top of the building, a large water tower, stained with rust from countless years of exposure to the weather and the nearby river, sat looming over the compound. While Alex slowly strolled across the Birdcage, making his way to the building ahead, a bitter cold wind blew against him, and the only sound in the still morning air was the roar of the waves that were somehow generated within the massive river.

Entering the empty facility, Alex kept to the shadows, hearing voices echoing through the large, open building. He crept along the catwalks encircling the room's perimeter, hugging the ceiling. Apparently the facility was also used by the _Maxia _to smuggle in supplies, since a tugboat was sitting in one of the pools, having apparently emerged from a massive breach in the building's wall facing the river. Several _Maxian _soldiers unloaded crates from the boat, and Alex still crept along the corridors, spying a ladder across the room taking him down to the second floor, with a set of long stairs nearby that took him down to the ground floor. The workers shared gossip among themselves, oblivious to the Commander, currently climbing down the ladder.

He quickly sped down the stairs, seeking cover in the darkness beneath one of the pools, elevated several yards above the ground. Once the workers had left into a nearby room, Alex hastily raced towards a stack of open crates, grabbing a pistol and silencer from within. He attached the silencer, diving back into the shadows just as the guards reemerged. One stopped by the crate he had looted from, turning to face his companions and shouting, "Hey! Did someone take a gun from here? The Warden will ream our asses if these supplies aren't delivered in full!"

Alex crept along the shadows, tripping over a stack of what appeared to be empty propane tanks.

He stiffened, wincing as a flashlight shined down into the darkness and the guard called out, "Hello? Is someone there?"

The Commander quickly dove for the nearest cover he could find, holding his breath as the guard rounded a corner and began to walk towards him.

The man suddenly paused, the light shining down at one of the tanks, rolling past his feet. Alex could hear the cocking of an assault rifle, and the man's harsh exclamation, "Come out! NOW!"

Muttering a brief, quiet prayer, Alex leaped out of cover, dispatching the guard with two shots to the chest from his silenced pistol. The resulting thud of his corpse against concrete and the brief exclamation he emitted shortly before succumbing aroused the attention of his friends. Now on the run, Alex dashed through the snaking corridors, the workers in pursuit, firing towards him with their assault rifles. For several minutes, Alex led them on a chase through the claustrophobic passages beneath the pools, taking out one of the workers whenever he had a chance to. Once the last one had fallen, Alex holstered his weapon and ran back to the ground floor, sprinting into the room the guards had entered earlier. He ripped open the crates, hoping to find something useful, and upon tearing off one plywood lid, he grinned at what was inside: plastic explosives. Grabbing as many of these as he could handle, he made his way back to the upper catwalks, trying to think of what he could do next. An idea suddenly came to mind, and he climbed back onto the top floor, searching for and finding a creaky door that opened out onto a narrow staircase spiraling around the building and onto the roof. The full, fat moon casting the night in an eerie glow, a distant wolf's howling mingling with the roar of the waves, Alex emerged on the roof, finding himself at the base of the massive water tower. He could hear the sound of pumping machinery, and water dripped from the tower, darkening the roof.

Alex worked quickly, planting his charges around the tower's legs, just out of sight, hoping that they weren't discovered before his breakout attempt was enacted. He checked the watch he had stolen from the guard, finding that it was shortly after four in the morning. Having heard that roll call was around eight in the morning, he timed the charges to detonate in four hours, beginning to make his way back to the cell block.

As he entered the Birdcage, he was greeted by several guards holding him at gunpoint, with the one he had knocked out standing at its head. Saying nothing, he was smacked in the kneecaps by their batons, sent to the ground, and as he tried to pick himself up, he was hit with a stun rod to the back. As he fell, losing control of his body, his head struck the catwalk, and the world blacked out around him.

Alpha Company was rounded out of prison and out into the yard, along with the other political prisoners, for roll call early the next morning. Upon entering the chilly, morning air, they were alarmed to see several prison guards standing at the head of the crowd, with a dazed and semi-conscious Alex kneeling on the ground before them, hands bound. "Before we get started," one of the guards began, walking back and forth at the front of the crowd, "You all get a little bit of entertainment..." and he paused his patrol in front of the Commander, removing a Magnum from the holster on his waist and placing the barrel of the weapon against Alex's temple, "This one managed to escape from his cell last night...so you all get the pleasure of watching his punishment get carried out."

Alex only chuckled, "Ready for your bath?"

Ignoring him, or failing to hear him, the guard continued, "This is what happens when you screw with us...you bite a bullet," and as he was about to fire, a loud explosion resounded through the air as the explosives upon the water tower's supports detonated. The shock and suddenness of the boom threw the guards off, all eyes turning to face the tower as a wall of bitterly cold water slammed into the courtyard, knocking everyone to the ground and sweeping people away, both guards and prisoners alike. Alex, bracing himself against the impact of the wave, and with the shock of the cold now fully alerting him, took advantage of the lapse in the guards' attention to swiftly take them down, rubbing his binds against the rusty support of a nearby stairwell, cutting through the rope. One guard charged towards him, he sidestepped out of the way, grabbing the man by the head and kneeing his face. Another guard came at him with a stun rod, the Commander responded by picking up a nearby bucket that had been filled by the torrent and throwing it onto the man, electrocuting him. Terrias quickly felt around for the key to his handcuffs from one of their escorts, knocked unconscious by the wave, freeing himself before running to the various members of Alpha Company, freeing _them _as well.

Once everyone had been freed, they regrouped with Alex, who had just dispatched another two guards that had charged towards him, "Let's get the hell outta dodge!" he exclaimed, "Tired of putting up with this crap!"

They made a break for the single gate in the prison wall, hoping they could overpower the checkpoint and escape. They soon reached their destination, storming the guard post and throwing open the knife switch, slowly opening the gates into the outer courtyard. Once through, Terrias picked up a discarded steel rod from a weedy scrap pile near the fence, busting open the padlock and forcing open the chain link gate, holding it open while the rest of Alpha Company made a run for the woods just outside the compound. Once everyone was through, the snivy shut the gate once again, fleeing into the forest himself and racing until he caught up to the rest of the fleeing unit.

"There should be a bus garage around here somewhere," Alex began, "We're gonna get in, steal one of 'em, and hightail it back to New Alexandria, or at least until we reach somewhere where we can change into something a little more reliable."

"What's the plan now?" Spyro asked.

Alex chuckled, "We're gonna take back our city!"


	47. Chapter XLVI: From the Ashes

_**Chapter XLVI**_**:**

**-''From the Ashes''-**

**-The Burned Lands: Outside New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**17 May 2012**_**-**

**-**_**1022 Hours**_**-**

Alex and his comrades sat in the old wreckage of a downed bomber just south of New Alexandria, the Commander himself peering through a pair of binoculars at the distant city. "What's the plan?" Spyro asked.

"That's what I'm trying to decide," the Commander replied, handing the device to the dragon, who took his _own _peek at the city.

"Don't see a lot of activity," the dragon said, "Kinda surprised actually," and he handed them back to Alex.

"Exactly, and that's what worries me."

"Hell you think is going on?" Piermont asked.

"Not sure..." Alex replied, and they were interrupted by Terrias, approaching them from behind.

"Just talked to Elliot, he says the resistance detonated a number of strategically placed E.M.P bombs early this morning...around the same time we were shooting up the prison. New Alexandria is dark, no tech, no power, no machines, and most importantly, no comms."

"Well that makes our life somewhat easier," the Commander replied, "Because we're drastically outnumbered...even _with _all of the expelled soldiers on our side, the odds of taking back the city are slim, given the _Maxia _have had time to fortify themselves."

"That's another thing," the snivy continued, "Elliot says Jazz didn't send a whole lot of guys out of the city. Most of the invasion party are still in there. With the lack of communication between the city and the outside world, Elliot's boys have been spending the day ambushing and destroying supply and reinforcement convoys, sorry saps in the city have no idea what's going on."

"So how are we gonna take the city back from Jazz? He overpowered us with sheer force and took it away...now we're going in to take down an army of roughly the same size that finally did us in...now with a chance for them to fortify themselves and establish defenses," Cynder asked.

"Simple," Terrias replied, "Go in and exploit their lack of communications..." and Alex pointed towards the snivy, confirming the plan.

"He's right," Alex said, "Without radio and without machines, it's just us versus a crapload of infantry...bonus points if they use electronic sights on their weapons, which I'm sure a good chunk of 'em do. There's more than enough breaches in the walls that we can slip in and sneak around, cut through any positions _en route _to Club Camelot, or at least the Military District, no doubt where that prick is hanging out at. We may be drastically outnumbered, but we have the element of stealth and surprise, and as long as we can keep that, they won't stand a chance."

"We're not tackling it in broad daylight though, are we?" Cynder asked, "That seems kinda dumb."

"Nope," the Commander replied, "Stick around until nightfall, the city will be very dark, but we have our mutation-given night vision, so it shouldn't be _too _unbearable. It's just more in our favor, they're blind as bats."

"Unless the _Maxian _Elite Ops have night vision," Spyro interrupted, "Given that we're talking a group of mutants that were dosed up with _our _serum, my money's on the affirmative."

"They aren't expecting us," Alex replied, "We got this in the bag."

"Perhaps...or perhaps not," the purple dragon continued, "If they've been bothered by resistance, surely their on the lookout."

"Have a little faith, huh?" the Commander said, pulling back into the plane's wreckage and setting himself a small camp, "Anyway, we should probably try to get some sleep...we had a long night last night, and we're gonna have an even _longer _one tonight. We need to be in the best shape we can possibly be if we hope to wrestle New Alexandria back from the _Maxia_, even if _we _have the advantage."

That night, as the sun sank beneath the horizon and the city was lightly illuminated by the _Fiernes Curtain _beyond, Alpha Company saw to make their move. Thankfully, a thick, heavy fog had settled over the land, and sandstorms had been ravaging the area all day. It had made terrible conditions to sleep in, but it also provided excellent cover, not only limiting visibility, but also drastically reducing the amount of light that spilled from the _Curtain_.

They entered the city through a breach in the southern portion of the outer wall, about two miles west of the south gates. Patrols were light, and they crept into the agricultural district, using whatever they could for cover until they reached the quiet lake which contained the island holding the city proper. The suspension bridge over the lake, connecting the southern agricultural district to the inner walls, was still smoldering and smoking, and there was a heavy concentration of infantry patrolling its expanse, forcing Alpha Company to find another way across. Alex and Terrias quickly fashioned a makeshift raft out of various debris from a razed farmhouse, quietly paddling across the lake and onto the muddy bank of the island. The inner wall was in much better shape than the outer one, and it took much longer for the unit to find another way to pass through it, not wanting to take the risk of climbing or flying over it. When they finally squeezed through a crevice into the southern business district, they ran for cover inside of a ruined skyscraper, ensuring that it was clear of _Maxian _patrols before they pressed themselves against the wall, peering out over the burning, crater-laden streets.

"Just got an update from Elliot," Spyro whispered to them, "Seems that Jazz has found a way to keep everyone in line, despite the missing comms. He has a group of officers that are making rounds across the city, checking up on all the major _Maxian _positions to make sure everything is rolling smoothly...maybe if we can intercept these officers, we can use them to find and eliminate the squads."

"Good idea," Alex began, "We'll split up...do we have a rough estimate of the routes of these patrolmen?"

"Resistance has it outlined for us, there's a safehouse in Town Center...we pay them a visit, they might be able to tip us off."

"All right, let's do that then...let's all split up into teams of...wanna say five or six, we'll track down these officers and take them down. We follow them to the _Maxian _positions, then each team will split in half, with half taking down the position and the other half following the officer to the next one up the line. Example, Terrias, Cynder, Spyro, Piermont, Aria, and myself would be in one team. We find the first position, Terrias, Cynder, and I will take that one down while Piermont, Aria, and Spyro follow the guy to the next one. They'll tell us where the next position is, and we'll add it to our to-do list. Keep in contact with each other, we can do this, we just need to stay in touch...communication is key. Now, let's move out!"

Alpha Company met with a chunk of the resistance seeking shelter in the cellar of one of Town Center's diners. Given a map outlining each of the known patrols throughout the city, Alex divided his forces accordingly and sent them off to begin the hunt. The next several hours were spent tailing the vehicles of the _Maxian _colonels, following them to the fortified positions and taking them down. Only once all the squads in the colonels' routes had been cleared were the officers themselves quickly dispatched.

The last of the _Maxian _squads neutralized, Alpha Company regrouped back at the diner, plotting with the Terminator resistance on how to storm the rest of the _Maxia_-occupied city, hoping to liberate it without too much difficulty. They had taken down a healthy portion of the _Maxian _forces within the walls...but there were still countless others patrolling the other districts, and the night was quickly passing...the _last _thing they wanted was to be still within the city come daylight, after which it wouldn't take long for the _Maxia _to realize that something was up.

Lost and unsure what exactly to do now, a stray, alien thought suddenly reached Alex's mind over the mutual mind bank, although it's source was unknown and didn't seem to be one of his immediate comrades, _General Elliot can lead the others against the rest of the little guys...you should go hunt down that evil rabbit!_

Nodding to himself, Alex relayed the idea to the rest of Alpha Company, all who agreed with him. They hastily established a plan on how to reach Club Camelot without attracting too much attention before finally creeping out of the hideout and stepping out onto the streets of Town Center. Although it was still night, the world had brightened since their arrival...the dust storms having cleared and now allowing the light of the _Fiernes Curtain _to spill out over the city. Sticking to the shadows, they slowly made their way across the square, evading or neutralizing patrols _en route _to the residential district due north of the center plaza, connecting Town Center and the market district to the west with the military district to the east.

Upon reaching Club Camelot shortly after, they were surprised to find it seemingly empty. Here, they split into two teams once again, with one group heading further east into the military district while the other one stormed the towering, gray, stone perimeter walls encircling the large, Victorian mansion housing the luxurious military club. The decorative, wrought-iron gates were cracked open, and passing into the hedgerow-lined courtyard below, across the brick path, around the three-basin fountain at the path's midpoint depicting an obsidian dragon on the wing, its mouth being the spout if the electric pump was working, and to the marble steps leading up to the large double doors opening into the lobby of the club.

Peering around the stone lions sitting on pedestals at the base of the stairs to ensure nobody was hiding around them, Alpha Company lowered their weapons in preparation to enter the building, and with Alex nodding firmly to them, he slowly and quietly turned the nob, checking his corners before creeping into the vacant lobby, eerily silent and very, very dark. Even with their night vision active, it was incredibly difficult to see around the deathly silent lobby, and Alex signed for them to move further in, never lowering his silenced weapon's ACOG scope from his eyes.

Confirming that the area was empty, Alex slightly lowered his guard as he walked across the cherry-stained oak floors of the lobby towards the double doors directly across from the entrance that led into the short hall between the lobby and the rotunda, skirting the sunken swimming pool in the heart of the room, surrounded by well-tended flower troughs and neatly trimmed hedges. Finally stepping into the rotunda itself, he stood in the heart of the bottom, dark green and spotted blue marble-tiled floor in the basement level, looking up towards the stained glass dome, depicting a dragon attacking a castle city, being attacked by knights. The light of the _Fiernes Curtain _shone through the dome, casting the entire area in an eerie, orange glow. With the power down, the glass elevator heading up to the penthouse floor, situated just beneath the dome, was inactive, and the Commander found himself wondering how else he was going to get up there. He telepathically summoned Cynder to him, clambering onto the she-dragon's back and clinging onto her smooth, warm neck as she rocketed up to the penthouse floor, gliding smoothly onto the sterile white, ceramic tile floor. Much to his surprise, it didn't seem that the _Maxia _had ravaged the club at all...but he was still weary of an ambush, checking the two branching halls heading to the east and west balconies before finally checking the doors to the four other penthouse suites, as well as the door leading into the observatory, accessible via the west hall and adjacent to Suite 1. Finding them all locked up tight, he finally returned to the door to Suite 1 quietly turning the knob and opening it into the dark room beyond, wincing as it squeaked. Light shone through the wall-sized window situated on the north wall of the living room, behind the couch, once more casting the room in that haunting, fiery glow, and casting twisted shadows upon the gold and beige, vertical pinstripes on the wallpaper.

He continued on, finding that parts of the wall had been damaged here, with pieces of the matching, dark brown crown and floor molding on the black, carpeted floor, but little else. Entering the parlor, his group split up even smaller, one half, led by Spyro, taking the east hall branching off from the hub while Alex's half took the western hall. He paused in the open archway of the kitchen, peering into the darkness make sure there was no planned ambush before continuing further ahead, slowly approaching Piermont and Cherub's shared room at the far end of the hall, on the west wall. They checked all the rooms in their approach to the end, finding them all locked tight, just as they had been left. Only Alex's room was broken into, but a quick investigation found that nothing had been stolen or displaced. With a sigh, Alex lowered his weapon, switching on the safety and throwing the strap over his shoulder, calling out, "Looks like nobody's here."

As he said this, however, he heard a beeping sound, and he immediately was on alert again. Approaching the nightstand adjacent to his bed, he spied his desk phone's message light glowing, despite the dead power and assumed dead phone lines as well. Weary, he checked the message, blood running cold when he heard Jazz's hoarse, corpse-like voice on the other line: "I'm sure you expected me to be here to greet you personally when you finally arrived...sadly, I had other plans. We're in a war after all, and I must move on to the next mission, as I'm sure you understand...but don't be afraid little _Ali_, we will meet again soon, I promise you this. I'm sure you're wondering how I knew you were going to come back...well...as you said yourself, it is impossible to stop a determined mutant...that and, although it has been many years since I was part of your little ragtag band of bastards, I'm still connected to the mind bank...and I could sense your arrival the moment the city appeared on the horizon. I applaud your ability to evade my men and take down an astounding number of them in your advance here, but I hope you aren't a one trick pony. We're an intelligent enemy...we learn from your actions, and I can promise you that it _won't _happen again. I'll see you soon..." and the message cut out here.

Alex stood in place, stunned and filled with dread, Spyro, Cynder, and Terrias standing around him.

"Well...isn't that just great..." Terrias began, "Took the city away from us, then casually hands it back...how thoughtful."

"He's playing mind games," Cynder replied, "Can't let him get beneath our skin...he's dicking around with us, trying to break us down."

Suddenly, a human-form Piermont entered the room, popping his neck muscles, "A'ight...Elliot's on his way with the rest of the guys Jazz drove outta the city. The _Maxia _will be gone by daybreak."

"Tell him to keep an eye on radio chatter...need to know where the _Maxia _pop up next..." Alex said, "I have a feeling that Jazz has got much bigger and deadlier cards he's gonna play in the coming weeks...or days..."

"Why don't you tell 'em yourself, he'll be here in like an hour."

"Don't get comfortable," Alex continued, leaving the room, heading towards the parlor, "We're not done here yet."


	48. Chapter XLVII: Karma

_**Chapter XLVII**_**:**

**-''Karma''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**19 May 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0101 Hours**_**-**

"_Hey...are you awake?"_

_Alex opens his eyes, once more finding himself in that sunlit valley. Confused once again at his sudden appearance in this alien world, he looks around him, trying to gather his bearings. None of this looked familiar, and he didn't know how he got here or why._

"_C'mon! Answer me! Please? Don't make me beg..."_

_Alex turns around to face the source of the voice, once more spying the girl he had seen at the prison standing before him, grinning widely towards him._

"_What's going around here?" he asks, "Who are you? Where are we?"_

_The girl giggles sheepishly, "Oh! C'mon! You know who I am!"_

"_I...I really don't."_

_She sighs loudly, feigning impatiences, "All right then...if you insist on playing that game..." she then completely catches him off guard by pecking him on the lips, and lowering him to the grass, climbing on top of him, "I'm someone who loves you...very deeply."_

_He gently pushes her away, pulling himself out from beneath her and standing once again, brushing the dusty dirt off of his clothes, "What is going on? I don't..." he shakes his head, "I don't know who you are...I don't know any of this crap...it's just...it's too much."_

_He is suddenly aware of the girl grabbing his shoulder, gently turning him around again to face her, "Don't worry..." she says with a smile, "You and I will be together in person _very _soon, just you wait. Right now, why don't you and I have a good time, hmm?" and she lowers him to the ground again, "Please? For me?"_

Alex's eyes snapped open as he awoke from the dream, forcing his burning eyes closed as light from the _Fiernes Curtain _outside shined through the open curtains across the French doors leading out onto his balcony and into his face. He tried to shy away from the light, but was soon aware of a heavy weight on his chest, and he looked down to see Cynder curled up on his chest, soundly.

With a sigh, he laid back down again, not wanting to wake the she-dragon, and as he waited for sleep to return, he thought about the girl, wondering who she was. She seemed familiar, but at the same time he couldn't ever recall meeting or seeing her before, which did little to ease the puzzle tormenting his mind. Being so close yet so far to unlocking her identity annoyed him to the point that he was starting to lose sleep over it. Who was she? What did she want from him? Why did the dreams seem more like visions than any sort of fantasy that his mind would generate in its resting state?

Finally, he managed to drift off again, although the mysterious girl did not return again that night.

The next morning, Alex was the last to awaken. He crawled out of bed, stretching and yawning as he crawled out of bed, clambering over to the open curtains and, with a grunt, forcefully snapping them close, stumbling out of his room and into the rest of the empty suite. Seeing that nobody else was present, he left the room, strolling around the rotunda, down the west hall, and towards the west balcony outside. Sure enough, the rest of his comrades were out there, taking in a little shred of sunlight poking through the permanent cloud cover above New Alexandria, listening to music as they sat around the pool, the hot tub, or the tiki-themed bar, discussing various things among themselves.

"Thanks for inviting me to the party," Alex grumbled, taking a seat at the bar between Terrias and Spyro, grabbing a slice of pizza that his comrades had apparently ordered earlier.

"Well...I know you had a late night with Cynder so...figured we'd let you sleep in," Terrias chuckled, sipping from a bottle of beer, "Besides, you looked like you needed it after all the crap we ended up dealing with yesterday, cleaning up the _Maxia _and shit."

"Thanks I guess...?"

"No problem," Spyro replied with a firm nod.

"Speaking of her," Alex began, "How's her pregnancy coming along?"

Spyro shrugged, "Not sure, she hasn't laid yet."

"She looks like she's about to burst any day now."

"Yep," is all the dragon replied with.

"Aria and I have been really trying to get pregnant," Terrias suddenly said, "Haven't had much luck though."

"Keep trying, you'll get lucky eventually."

As the sun once more fell behind the seemingly endless cloud cover above the city, Alpha Company returned to Club Camelot's interior one-by-one. Soon, only Alex was left outside, and the Commander moved to stand on the raised platform, able to function as a stage, positioned in the southwest corner of the balcony, staring out over the city beyond. He heard distant thunder, perhaps promising rain to fall in this drought-stricken wasteland, although he had his doubts. Odds are it would pass by without a single drop, like it had been doing since the _Curtain _went up three years earlier.

"You doing okay?" a voice asked behind him, and Alex turned to see Terrias walking over to him.

The Commander shrugged, "Doing well enough, I suppose."

"What's on your mind?"

"Nothing really...just some weird dreams I've been having lately, probably not important, just products of the stress we've all been dealing with lately."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Nothing really to talk about, mate...I mean, I don't even really recall what they're about. Soon as I wake up, all of the details are just...wiped from memory."

"Strange...but I don't think any of us have been having any unusual dreams lately. At least _I _haven't, or I'd try to help."

"They're not really _bad _persay, just...confusing, that's all."

"Well, don't beat yourself up _too _much over this, dreams are a funny little thing. They're outlets through which your subconscious tries to sort out information obtained day after day. Rarely are they important, although sometimes your conscience will try to slip some really obscurely explained suggestions through them. I wouldn't worry too much about it, probably nothing. Like you said, a lot of crap's been going on lately, plus you've been kinda thrown around for a loop by Jazz's sudden reappearance, probably your mind is just trying to figure out what the hell is going on."

Silence for several moments before Alex said, "There's this girl..."

"Okay? What about it?"

"That's just it...the dreams are about this random girl, she seems familiar, but I've never met or seen her before in my life, or at least not that I can recall. That's not even the strange part of it though...the weirdest part is that, almost every time I see her in my sleep...she just...comes onto me. Doesn't even break into it easily, just throws me down and decides she wants a ride."

Terrias chuckled.

"It's not funny man...I'm really worried about it."

"Dude...why? You're an otherwise healthy teenage male. Your hormones are on a rampage, and believe it or not, normal teenagers have wet dreams, it happens. Hell, I've had them, too...it's nothing to worry about."

"Why is it the same girl every time then?"

The snivy shrugged, "I dunno, but you're thinking too deep into it, I think. Perhaps your dreams are creating some kinda 'dream woman' for you to fantasize about, given your adamant dislike for members of your species. Either way, it's not worth worrying, and it's completely normal."

Alex sighed, "I just...I don't know. I've _had _wet dreams before...but this just...it doesn't feel like it. Hell, it feels more like a vision to me than anything. Like I may not have met this girl yet, but I will soon."

"Okay then...so if that _were _true, then why are you beating yourself up over it?"

"I'm already pushing the limits with Sarah over my relationship with Cynder...I don't need _another _girl to complicate matters even worse."

"Is this dream chick human?"

"That's one of the weird things...I don't even know. All I remember when I wake up is the color of her eyes, and her voice."

"Okay...that is a little strange, but hey, I'm not gonna judge."

"Terrias..."

"What? I'm just saying, don't worry about it. If it means something, I'm sure the truth will be to revealed to you when the time is right. For now, just roll with it."

"Didn't know you were religious."

"I'm not...but that's not what I mean. Just...don't torture yourself with this...especially when there are more important things to worry about right now."

When Alex didn't respond and Terrias turned to head back inside, Alex suddenly asked, "Has anyone else been having weird dreams messing with them lately? Perhaps not in the same vein as mine, but have they? Or at least from what you've heard? I wonder if Jazz is screwing with us over the mind bank, maybe that's what's going on."

"Not that I'm aware of anyway," the snivy replied, voice distant.

"Have you?"

Silence for several minutes before, "I've been dreaming a lot about my old home, and my old owner...but I'm sure that it's nothing more than just stress."

"What if it isn't?"

Terrias didn't respond, only disappeared inside of Club Camelot, leaving Alex alone once again.

Night soon fell over the city, most of it still darkened from the E.M.P bombs. Alex had retired early, disappearing in his bedroom and locking the door behind him, although it was still much too early for him to sleep, Alpha Company was unable to contact him, he had shut himself off from the mutual mind bank. Terrias had instead taken up Alex's position on the balcony, saying nothing as the hot wind coming from the _Curtain _blew past him, his face caught in the warm glow of the distantly burning wall of fire.

Mentally, he wasn't here, however. He was lost deep in the recesses of his mind, sorting through memories of his and Aria's past. Alex's question shortly before the snivy had reentered Club Camelot ripped through his mind continuously, looping over and over again. What _if_ the dreams of his owner weren't just simple coincidence or products of stress? He thought of himself as a realist, someone who approached a subject from a skeptical, scientific perspective...but yet he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to these dreams than what met the eye...it was an itch that he couldn't scratch, and he didn't know why.

It shouldn't have bothered him, it normally didn't...but yet for some, inexplicable reason, it was. Eventually, after several hours of soul-searching and quiet mediation upon his thoughts, he came to a decision, silently entering Club Camelot and packing his things, sneaking out before anyone noticed his absence.

Within half an hour, he had arrived at his destination, hiding in the shadows of a bush in a park across the street from his old home. He sat in place, staring out towards the house, watching as a car he didn't recognize pulled over along the side of the street and a tall, thing, middle-aged woman stepped out of the driver's sear, walking across the lawn and knocking on the front door. The cruel, evil man opened the door himself, exchanging a few words with the woman before stepping aside and letting her in...so Bob was back on the dating scene. Apparently the Pokemon he routinely used and abused had stopped giving him the pleasure he craved.

Terrias remained in place, still and patient, watching as, before too long, his old owner stepped out of the house once again, the woman in tail, escorting her to his car in the garage. He pulled out of the driveway, pausing for a moment before climbing out of the vehicle, sprinting back into the house, his partner in tow. Here, Terrias peered around, ensuring he was completely alone before he moved out of cover, adjusting the weapon's strap on his shoulder. He quietly popped open the car's trunk, clambering inside before shutting the door, locking himself in darkness. Although he would be unable to open the trunk from the inside, the car was an older model, so all he had to was kick down the back seats and he could crawl out when the time came.

The snivy got comfortable, holding his breath and remaining still as he heard the car door open once again and the muffled voice of his owner as the woman a question. She responded, voice too muffled to hear, and Terrias waited. Several minutes later, the car jolted to a stop, awakening the dozing Pokemon. He remained quiet, listening carefully as both Bob and his date left the car, shutting the door behind them and walking away, laughing to themselves. The snivy waited, counting out five minutes before he finally took the chance to escape. He carefully opened the seat, climbing out of the trunk and shutting it back again, unlocking the door and slipping out of the car, shutting it behind him. He looked around him, mouth twisting in disgust. He was at a restaurant in what appeared to be the south Business District, although he had never been in this part of town before. He readjusted his weapon again, sprinting across the parking lot and diving into the topiaries and shrubbery encircling the restaurant's lot. Peering through the scope of his semi-automatic assault rifle, he panned across the windows of the building, trying to find a proper vantage point until he finally identified his old owner, huddled in a window seat with his date.

Terrias moved into position, crouching low to the ground and setting up his weapon, peering down the scope once more. He turned on his weapon's laser sight, centering the dot the wall of the building, adjusting his aim until the dot was resting on the side of his old owner's head. Terrias snarled, preparing to pull the trigger before he suddenly eased the pressure.

No...if Bob was going to die, he was going to know _who _his killer was.

The snivy adjusted his aim until the laser sight was resting on the man's crotch, and only then did he finally pull the trigger. The suppressor attached to his weapon all but muted the shot, but he could hear the shattering of glass and the screams of people rushing out of the restaurant, or running towards cover. Once most of the crowd had dispersed, the snivy left cover, slowly approaching the restaurant before mantling over the building, through the window he had shot out. Bob had crawled several feet away, curling in a corner. His partner sat beside him, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Well, well, well...nothing like a little karmic justice, huh?" Terrias muttered, attracting the attention of the two humans. Only the snivy's old owner realized who he was, and he could barely form words as he muttered in a blubbering tone, "You...what...?"

"I didn't say you could speak!" he hissed, forcing the barrel of his weapon against Bob's head with enough force to draw blood, "I want you to take a good luck at me and remember all the times you raped my mother, and how you _murdered _her, _in cold blood_! Then, I want you to remember everything you did to me and my Aria, all the abuse you put us through!"

"How...is this possible!?" he managed through his sobbing pouts.

"SHUT UP!" Terrias roared, bashing the man's injury with the butt of his weapon. Several patrons crept towards him, attempting to be the good Samaritan. All the snivy did to drive them off was switch his weapon from semi-automatic to full auto mode, then fire half a clip into the air around him. Once they were alone once again, Terrias reset his weapon to single shot and placed the barrel against Bob's head once more.

"Please...I'm sorry..." he managed through his blubbering tears, "I'll do anything! _Anything_!"

"It's a bit too late for that now, isn't it? No amount of mercy will undo the years of trauma you put us through, bring back the lives you forced me to take in your fight clubs, _or _bring back my mother, you murderer."

"I...I didn't mean to! It was an accident!"

Terrias fired another shot into the man's leg, causing him to howl in pain and agony, before he went ahead and fired a shot into the other leg, once more reducing the violent and narcissistic drunk to tears.

"Please...don't do this..." the woman, Bob's partner for the evening, said, struggling to hold her own.

"You have no part in this," Terrias spat in a cold, murderous tone, "Get as far away from here as you can."

"Deborah..." Bob began, "Please, go...get out of here!"

"I'm not leaving you, Robert!"

"SHUT IT!" Terrias roared again, turning the gun on her, "Not another word, got it? Or this next bullet will go right between your pretty eyes!"

"What do you want from me?" Bob asked, sniffling.

"Simple really," Terrias chuckled darkly, "I want your blood, to avenge my mother...to avenge our torment."

"Is there anything else I can do? I'll pay you in damages! Just please...don't hurt me or Debbie...please," and he broke down into a fresh wave of tears.

"You should have reconsidered this a long time ago."

"I'm sober...I've been sober for months...please don't do this..."

"Oh for Chrissakes at least show some dignity in death!" Terrias hissed, "You are pathetic, soft, and unworthy of living. You beat us to deal with your own pitiful existence, and now the wheel's come back around."

"Please...I'm not innocent! I admit it...I've already sold all the slaves, I-I'm in recovery, I attend Alcoholics Anonymous meetings every Wednesday, just...please don't do this! I've changed! I swear!"

Terrias leaned in then, whispering coldly, "Karma's a bitch, ain't it?" and snarling in disgust, he finally pulled the trigger, sending a bullet through the skull of the man who had made his entire life a living hell, splattering the carpet and nearby booth with blood, gray matter, and bone. The man's corpse jerked uncontrollably before stilling, spastic legs dancing in death, and his black slacks slowly darkened as he evacuated his bowls and bladder.

The woman called Debbie shrieked, falling back and trying to pedal away, screaming for help. Terrias only responded by firing six shots into her torso, leaving her to bleed out on the ground, crying and moaning in agony. Distant sirens fast approaching, Terrias took this opportunity to push open the back door of the restaurant and leave the building, climbing over the brick wall surrounding the business' lot, landing on the sidewalk of the street running behind it. He looked both ways before crossing the street, disappearing into a large, public park.


	49. Chapter XLVIII: Transmutation

_**Chapter XLVIII**_**:**

**-''Transmutation''-**

**-New Alexandria, Montana-**

**-**_**19 May 2012**_**-**

**-**_**0914 Hours**_**-**

Terrias awoke with a start, crying out as images from the nightmare that had tormented his sleep continued to ravage his brain. Recovering from the onslaught of images, feeling strange, he looked around him. The sunrise was intense and blinding, his head ached mercilessly, and he felt ill. What had happened last night? He vaguely recalled some gruesome images, a corpse laying in a pool of blood, the back of its head blown out and smeared on the floor and walls of some unknown place, the screams of a girl, distant police sirens.

He collapsed forward beneath the onslaught once again, groaning against the pain. Once it had passed, he carefully stood up and began to stumble forward. He was in a park, a public park, somehow he had ended up passing out beneath a bridge...but the events that had transpired the previous night were still strangely missing from his mind. He stumbled back beneath the arches of the bridge, groaning and leaning against arch's masonry, blinking away the pain. His cloaca opened slightly, the tips of his red hemipenes poking out from inside and he urinated, eyes closed, listening only to the liquid splashing against the wall. What had happened last night, and why couldn't he remember anything?

It was then that he noticed that the world seemed a lot smaller now for some reason, or he had gotten taller. Confused, he stumbled across the park to a reflecting pool, collapsing and looking into his reflection. He _had _changed...specifically, he had evolved. The eyes that looked back at him were slanted, his ears were pronounced and erect, his snout was longer, and his three-fingered hands were closer to his body, although he still had arms. His legs were more developed, too...the reflection that greeted him was one of a servine, not a snivy.

It seemed that in the sheer passion of his self-imposed mission the previous night, he had achieved the milestone in his life necessary to prove his strength, allowing him to advance to the next stage of his species' life cycle. The servine grimaced, looking up towards the sun, the light finally not as painful against his eyes. Realizing he was without his trench coat, he returned to where he had passed out, finding that the piece of clothing was ripped and torn, and even with that, it no longer fit. With a sigh, he picked up the tattered remains of the coat, wrapping it around his neck, picking up his assault rifle and continuing forward, leaving the park, keeping to the shadows and alleys, attempting to stay off the streets for fear that the authorities would be looking for him.

Piece by piece, memory of what had happened, what he had done, returned to him, and although he felt disgusted with himself, he also felt like what he did was necessary, that it had to be done. His mother's murder was now avenged, as were the raping of all the females he had been penned with, save Aria, and his and Aria's own torture had been avenged. Terrias, for a brief moment, considered running away, leaving New Alexandria and the Terminator Militia, not wanting to see the betrayal and hurt in his friends', and especially Aria's, eyes when he told them of what happened. He had rogued out, gone against orders, and selfishly ran off to relieve a personal vendetta. Plus, he feared that, in his new form, Aria would no longer love him. Although the very thought of this seemed absurd, he recalled during their first mating, when Aria had admitted that the fact a snivy and a servine, two differing stages of their species, were making love turned her on.

How would she feel now that he had evolved?

As he walked, he remembered the first night he and Aria spent together, embarrassed when he became aroused by the idea, and he watched as his cloaca spread again, his hemipenes emerging, dripping a little from their tips. He quickly dove around into cover, waiting for the arousal to pass before continuing ahead, not knowing where he was going. He finally stopped at a clothing shop, one of the higher end ones in the business district. He hid the weapon, which he had been hiding in the tattered remains of his coat, in the alley before entering the shop, instantly having the smell of fresh leather washing over him. Soft jazz played quietly over a radio, the clerk, a big, well-groomed man with a full goatee greeted him with a nod of the head. The servine responded with a brief wave, entering the shop and looking around.

Eventually, he found himself looking at trench coats, picking one out and checking the size on it, finding it to his liking. As he brought it to the front counter, the man finally broke his silence, asking, "You Alpha Company?"

Terrias nodded with a slight grin, "How could you tell?"

The man smiled, ringing the coat up, "You look like the type...nice to meet one of you boys in person. Hear all kinds of legends down here, nobody ever sees you though."

"We tend to keep to ourselves, if anything to avoid turning heads."

"Understandable, I'm sure having a couple of lions, some cheetahs, reindeer, a giant skunk, and some dragons walking around tends to attract plenty of attention." 

"That's part of it," Terrias said, "Other part is to keep the paparazzi off of our asses, last thing we need is some big new rumor to spread around town."

"Did you hear about that murder last night? Couple miles down the road?"

Terrias sobered, nodding grimly, "I heard."

"They said Alpha's involved, or _one _of Alpha is anyway...is it true?"

Terrias thought for a few moments before finally lying, "Can't say yes or no, to be honest. I'm still the rookie around here so...they don't really tell me anything."

The man chuckled, "Ah...new kid on the block, I know that feeling. You have a blessed day, tell your friends about me, would ya?"

"You, too, and I will," the servine replied, exiting the shop and putting on his new coat, retrieving his weapon and hiding it inside of his jacket. He looked around, eyes turning towards the clock tower up ahead, marking the northernmost end of Town Center. It chimed nine o'clock, and with a sigh, he headed towards it, trying to decide how he was going to explain what happened to the rest of his allies.

By the time he reached Club Camelot, he was a nervous wreck, although you wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him. His experience in an abusive home had taught him how to hide his emotions, and he did a pretty good job at it. When he finally entered Club Camelot, his arrival did briefly turn a few heads, not recognizing him in his new form, although nobody asked, soon continuing on with their normal routines, likely passing him off as a new recruit. He knocked on Suite 1's door, not looking forward to what lay on the other side.

Alex answered the door, frowning as he observed the servine, "Changed your look I see?" the Commander asked.

Terrias grinned, "Shut up."

Still sober, Alex nodded towards him, "You killed the guy last night?"

"Is it that obvious?"

Alex only nodded slightly, stepping aside to allow the Pokemon entrance, quietly closing the door behind him. The rest of Alpha Company was in the parlor, sitting in front of the large, flat screen television, playing LAN multiplayer on _Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2_ using multiple, connected systems. Aria gingerly stood up, blushing as she looked towards him.

"Finally did it," Terrias laughed sadly, "Took long enough, amirite?"

Without another word, the female rushed towards him, embracing him tightly and kissing his cheek. She whispered into his ear, "Who was it?"

"Bob..." he replied solemnly in a low voice, "Our moms, and our past, have been avenged."

The game was paused and all eyes turned to face him, Terrias subconsciously shying away from them.

"Your old owner, right?" Alex suddenly said, turning off the television and leaning against the entertainment center.

"Yes," the servine replied with a faint nod, "Listen, Alex...I don't know what came over me, I just..."

"I don't wanna hear it," the Commander interrupted, "It's best if I don't know. I understand why you did, I really do...but I wouldn't go around doing that regularly, Elliot is going through everything trying to explain it away...something about a hired assassin that nobody knows...bribing witnesses, shit like that...but he is _pissed_, and I mean _royally _pissed. My advice? Stay low for a week or two, don't show yourself to the public until this little...incident...fades away from memory, and definitely avoid Elliot for awhile."

Terrias nodded, "Understood...thanks, Alex."

"Don't thank me. Elliot's doing all the dirty work, I'm just the messenger..." he then sighed, "You know...this is the first major crime in the Quads since we took over Carsonvale almost ten years ago. Needless to say the public is freaking out that it happened and wants to know what the actual hell happened last night. For the sake of keeping your head out of the fire, I suggest both you _and _Aria stay inside for a little while...anyway, on to more pressing matters..."

"What is it?"

"There was something else that happened last night, across the world."

"What?"

"Somebody bombed the Kremlin in Russia...evidence is pointing to one of our divisions based in New York City...now, we don't _have _any one stationed in Russia, which can only mean one thing..."

"Jazz..."

"Yup...though this is definitely one weird-ass way to go about it...especially considering we're in a sort of uneasy alliance with the country. Anyway, a couple of hours ago, Russian aircraft were spotted scouting the harbor...there's rumors that something big may be going down soon, we've been sent to investigate. I'll be taking you with me...if anything to keep you out of Elliot's way."

"Understood."

"Good...hope you got some sleep last night...Christ knows what we're gonna find when we get down there, now get washed up, we're moving out in a couple of hours."


	50. Chapter XLIX: Siege of New York, Pt I

_**Chapter IL**_**:**

**-''The Siege of New York, Pt. I''-**

**-New York City, New York-**

**-**_**19 May 2012**_**-**

**-**_**2023 Hours**_**-**

The Hornets carrying Alpha Company, as well as a surplus of reinforcements, appeared in the dark, smoky skies above New York City. Four hours ago, the city had been attacked by the combined Russian and _Maxian _forces, temporarily delaying Alpha Company's intended arrival by several hours. As soon the machines arrived, however, they were already under heavy fire from enemy anti-aircraft, and Terrias said, riding in the lead Hornet with several members with him while Alex resided in _another_ Hornet behind them, leading some fresh recruits from basic training, "What the hell is going on down there!?"

"Pissed off Ruskies, that's what," Piermont chuckled grimly, "Oh, and fuckin' Jazz. Bombed the Kremlin and framed the local base hereso that he could have some friends take out one of our larger forces and supplier of troops. That's what's going on."

"I'm trying to understand why Elliot didn't send us in earlier," Cynder said, "We could have prevented them from digging in if he had let us leave when we were _supposed _to!"

"Yeah well...good luck trying to understand him. I like the guy, but sometimes he makes some weird-ass decisions...I swear he pulls crap out of his ass sometimes."

"Probably wanted to see if it was something we actually _needed _to handle before sending us down here," Spyro sighed.

"Bro," Piermont snarled, "If that's the case then he's the biggest, douchiest dumbass I've ever seen. He seems to forget that Jazz _was _one of us! You don't underestimate Alpha Company! Former or otherwise!" and the human-form dragon, hands shaking, stuck a cigarette in his mouth and struck a light.

Despite being the middle of summer, it was surprisingly cold tonight, and the heat and weight of the supplies they wore did little to counteract the bitter cold in the unheated aircraft. All around them, explosions from anti-aircraft narrowly missing the machine startled them, with Piermont exclaiming, "Jesus Christ! Tails! You got some kinda deathwish man!?"

"Well, I didn't necessarily expect for them to be this deep in," the fox growled, piloting the big bird through the fire, "And it's too dangerous to warp out of here."

"Just keep your paws steady and keep going forward," Sonic reassured, half-hugging his friend, "We'll get out of this."

"Yeah, no offense, I'd prefer not to be touched right now...need to concentrate here."

"How you doing Alex?" Terrias asked over the line.

"Been better," the Commander replied, "No offense to these guys, but I'd much rather get stuck with you than get stuck with them...feel like a fish outta water."

"Sorry you feel so out of place, sexy..." Cynder chuckled, "Wish I was there with you."

"Thanks, honey..." the Commander replied, feigning sadness.

"Would cuddle up right next to you, give you a great big hug..."

"Okay...now's not really the time for phone sex," Terrias interrupted, and they could hear Alex bellowing laughter on the other end.

Cynder meanwhile, simply blushed, looking towards the ground. Several more explosions rocked the Hornet and they could hear Tails swearing from the cockpit, "Easy does it now..." he said.

Suddenly, a massive ball of fire appeared behind them, casting a brilliant orange glow into the machine. Through the windows, they could see one of the Hornets spiraling towards the ground...the one carrying Alex.

"Shit! We've been hit!" the Commander replied over the line, shortly before his radio cut to static.

"Alex!?" Cynder cried, "_ALEX!_"

"Tails!" Terrias growled, "Put this bird down!"

"It's too dangerous to right now!" the fox replied nervously, "I don't have much breathing room out here!"

"Then get somewhere safe where we can land!" Spyro ordered, "Alex's bird is down!"

"I'm trying!" he exclaimed, "I'm...I'm trying..."

The Hornet finally lowered to a hover in the middle of a crater-laden parking lot, depositing it's passengers on the ground.

"I gotta hang back!" Tails said, "Not as long as those triple A's are operational! If you want me to provide overwatch, I'm gonna need you guys to take them down."

"We're on it," Spyro replied firmly.

"Spyro..." Cynder began anxiously, "We need to go find him!"

"We will, Cyn...but first we need to help make the area safer for our boys."

"We can't just leave him there! They'll kill him!"

"I know...but there's nothing we can do...not right now anyway."

Cynder bit her tongue, scoffing and looking away, sniffling before stomping forward, taking point, "Let's go, _NOW!_"

Spyro only looked after her, shaking his head and telling Terrias, "You know...sometimes I wonder if she loves him more than she loves me."

"You shoulda seen how pathetic she was after your capture," Piermont smirked, "Not that I'm trying to cheer you up or anything...don't count yourself special."

They raced up Broadway, using whatever they could to avoid heavy fire from Russian soldiers who had dug in since their arrival, setting up chokepoints along the street and also using the surrounding buildings for sniper and HMG nests. Elliot soon called them over the radio, saying, "Seems the Russians and the _Maxia _have distributed their forces evenly across the neighborhoods. Each one is under occupation by a single regiment. Each commanding officer has jurisdiction over their territory and their territory only, to help keep things running as smoothly and efficiently as possible. Scary part is...it's working."

"Great...meanwhile, our clusterfuck of an army is trying to take everything at once," Piermont growled.

"Which is exactly why we need to take things a little at a time."

"Elliot," Spyro said, "Any idea where the triple A's are stationed?"

"A bit anyway...there's a battery of 'em in Times Square, but watch your asses, we've heard that there's some heavy sniper activity keeping tabs on it, although nothing has been confirmed yet, our boys are too afraid to get near them."

"Any word from Alex?" Cynder asked.

"Negative, but we're trying to get a squad down there to investigate...unfortunately, everyone's currently tied up throughout the city. If there's one thing I can give that bastard of a rabbit, it's that he knows how to win a battle...and quite frankly, that worries me. We're trying to get some reinforcements down there to help...but the _Maxia _have patrols and positions miles outside of the city, bogging our guys down."

"Get some E. out here," Spyro said, "Fry their electronics like you did for New Alexandria."

"As tantalizing as that sounds, it's impractical right now. Not only does N.Y.C have an impressive area that will be hard to cover, but as long as we're fighting uphill, we can't afford grabbing and sending E.M.P bombs out there. Until we can get a hold of things, the fancy crap will have to wait, sorry for disappointing."

Slowly but surely, Alpha Company forced their way up the street, hearing the bellow of the artillery as it fired upon friendly aircraft and newly-arriving wings of riders, but not seeing the guns themselves. Upon arriving at the fortified outskirts of Times Square, they found the road blocked off by a column of tanks, and were forced to flee off the road and into an alley, taking a heavily graffiti'd side door into one of the skyscrapers overlooking the square. They managed to flank a Russian command post in the building, clearing it out and running towards one of the third floor windows facing the square.

The situation was much direr than they had originally thought. They could count at least ten guns, countless infantry, several mortar crews, and a column of tanks for each road out of the square. In addition to this, barriers and heavily fortified blockades had been erected across all exits, and HMG nests had been erected in the heavily shelled buildings surrounding it, overlooking the entire square and miles outside.

"Elliot..." Cynder began, "It doesn't look pretty."

"You have eyes on the square?"

"Roger...and there's hundreds of bad guys out there. I'm counting ten pieces of artillery, looks like eight mortar pits, looks like they have a column of armor guarding each access, and HMG nests and anti-armor crews have taken positions in the upper floors of the surrounding buildings...this is gonna be a bitch to clean."

"Any snipers?"

"None that I can see."

"Hmm...I have an idea, you guys think you can hold position for a few minutes?"

"Depends on the plan."

"Stay in cover."

"Are you nuts!? One of those columns drove us in here...won't take long before they decide to investigate!"

"Hold position for a few minutes, I've got something."

"What is it?" Cynder asked.

Silence.

"_Elliot?_"

Nothing.

"Damn it."

They could hear the shouts of approaching Russian soldiers, and Alpha Company dove into cover in the darkness, squirming into low-profile positions where they had a clear sight of all possible entrances and exits into the room. When the soldiers started flooding into the room, flashlights mounted to the bottoms of their weapons, Alpha Company acted, swiftly holding them back. After several minutes, Elliot returned, saying, "Hope you guys found some cover, gonna have some fireworks coming your way in approximately five minutes."

"What did you do?" Spyro asked.

Elliot chuckled, "Called upon some old friends in the area, cashed in a favor they owed me. Just so you know, not _every _American serviceman is out to get you."

Once the onslaught of infantryman had ceased, Alpha Company took the chance to leave cover, returning to the window and peering out over the square.

"Hope you brought your diapers boys...gonna be danger close," Elliot chuckled.

Suddenly, the sky was illuminated by the sight of a glowing object rapidly advancing towards the surface of the earth. It soon connected, sending a massive plume of smoke into the air and sending a powerful enough shockwave to fully shatter the damaged glass in the window. Another rocket soon struck, then another, and another, and Alpha Company pulled further back into the building as shrapnel blew through the breach, coating them. Each mighty explosion shook the ground beneath them, and after a minute of this relentless barrage, the attack ceased, leaving an eerie silence in the smoky air.

"What the _hell _was _that_!?" Terrias exclaimed over the line.

"Congratulations," Elliot chuckled again, "You boys just survived an encounter with an AC-130," he then added, "How's it look down there? Did the clean up crew do a good job or do I gotta send them back in?"

"Dunno, can't see jack through all this smoke," Spyro added, "Don't hear anything anymore."

"Beautiful! Now get your asses down there and make sure everything's gone. They're on standby if you need 'em again, told them to look for red smoke, so use your grenades. I'll patch you through to them."

Several moments of radio silence passed while Alpha Company made its way down to the street level, skirting the now-destroyed tank that had blocked their passage earlier. Finally, an unfamiliar voice came over the line, "This is _Hellfire One_, does anyone copy, over?"

"We hear you loud and clear, _Hellfire_," Spyro sighed, "This is Seraph, thanks for the air support, over."

"Roger that, Seraph...betcha didn't see that one coming, huh?"

"And here I was thinking that the entire damn country was after our asses."

"Heh, not everyone, you still got some friends in the U.S.A.F. We'll be on standby if you need us. Pop some smoke, hunker down, and we'll blow 'em away, over."

"Got it..."

"Seraph copies all, out."

"Yeah...shut up, we don't know military terms, not really a professionally, officially trained army."

"You'll learn, _Hellfire _out."

After cleaning up the few survivors left in the square, Alpha Company turned its sights on heading towards the direction where Alex's Hornet had been shot down, hoping they still had time to get there before the _Maxia _did. For several minutes, they encounter little resistance, and the ones they did were still in shock over the AC-130's assault earlier on. When they could see orange smoke crowning above a distant building, marking distress, they hurried over, finding that the closer they grew to the crash site, the quieter and eerier the area became. Grey smoked hanged thick in the air around them, static and trapped by the surrounding buildings and little wind. Visibility was low, and they could make out the shapes of buildings and destroyed vehicles, but little else in the cloud. There were a lot of shadowed areas and dark corners, worrying the team who hadn't encounter _any _enemies in several minutes.

Eventually, their sprint was reduced to a crawl, and Piermont whispered "Keep your eyes open. Hella good place for an ambush."

Nearby, a car exploded, startling the entire unit, but looking around them to ensure that there was nobody around, or there didn't _seem _to be anyone around, they soon continued on, closing inn on the crash site. Up ahead, they could see the glow of fires and could just barely make out the shape of the twisted metal aircraft through the smoke, and Piermont reiterated his warning.

Finally, they managed to pass through into a more open area, finding the foggy air much clearer now. Alpha Company split up, with Piermont, Spyro, Cynder, and Terrias lowering their weapons and approaching the downed aircraft while the rest patrolled the perimeter in search of any enemy troops lying in wait.

Terrias skirted the corpse of a _Maxian _soldier, blood congealing in a hole where one of his eyes should have been, laying in a pool of dark red, "Looks like someone already beat us to it."

"Or survivors did a number on some curious grunts."

Sifting through the wreckage, every occupant was accounted for as a corpse...sans one... "Alex is gone," Spyro swore, "You think the _Maxia _got him? Or did he walk away?"

Cynder crouched beneath an isolated smear of blood on the door of the vehicle, running a claw through it. She shook her head, "Doubt he was able to walk away from this...looks like they got shook up pretty bad."

"There's smears heading east," Terrias said, pausing in front of the downed craft and pointing towards a dark, crater-laden road leading deeper into the city, running parallel to the sea. He walked towards the road, kneeling next to a skidmark on the street... "Mark is fresh, tread doesn't look like it belongs to a civvie or one of ours..._Maxia _got him...son of a bitch."

"Well, he's still alive," Piermont said, "I can feel him through the mind bank...which means we need to figure out where the hell Jazz took him."

"Can't we trace him by scanning the city for his presence?" Spyro asked, and Terrias looked at him, confused.

Piermont shook his head, "Already tried, Jazz is somehow suppressing our abilities. No idea where he took Alex, and the bastard somehow jammed our head-radars."

Walking away, Spyro tapped his earpiece, "Elliot, we can't track Alex...we think the _Maxia _captured him, but Jazz is blocking our scrying ability. Think you can get the _Ring _to trace his implant?"

"I'll see what I can do...but the smog is dicking with the _Ring's _vision at the moment."

"Thanks."

"Yep."

"Scrying?" Terrias asked, "What do you mean?"

"It's an ability we have, Snake," Piermont interrupted, "We close our eyes and expand our mind throughout an area, can be as small as a room or as large as a city...though the further we go out, the more out of range, glitched, and inaccurate it becomes. Anyway, we close our eyes and expand our mind throughout an area...it paints a chalk outline of sorts image of the surrounding area in the blackness of our mind's eye. In this view, we can see individual heartbeats...or in the case of dragons...Martaanean dragons anyway...auras. If we find any readings that stick out to us, we can single it out and track it to see where somebody is. Can be useful, but usually impractical, since it's hard for even the most experienced users to accomplish, and tends to be inaccurate since it doesn't predict a movement, it only tells you the location right then and there."

"Sounds complicated."

"It is...ask Alex when we find him, he can better explain it."

"If he survives."

"You underestimate his ability, Snake," the dragon growled, "He's probably one of if not the most capable here of surviving even the bleakest scenarios. We'll find him, and we'll find him alive...if he doesn't find us first, that is."

Elliot interrupted them saying, "We have some guys pinned down in Times Square, seems the Russians don't wanna give it up. Get your asses down there, ASAP!"

Alpha Company split their force, half of them following the street in the direction of where the _Maxia _seemed to have gone with Alex while the other half began to make their way back to the square, finding it once more locked in battle. Terminator forces had moved in, beginning to set up defenses, but fresh soldiers had taken to the surrounding skyscrapers, reengaging the militia in an attempt to retake the captured square. In addition to the Russian soldiers, _Maxian _armor had arrived as well, driving friendly armor further back and forcing them out of the square.

Along with the mutant division, reinforcements had finally begun to arrive, and friendly aircraft was making strafing runs across the square, dogging the enemy forces beginning to make headway towards the line. With the _Maxian _tanks making surprising progress towards the Terminator defenders, clearing a path for their infantry, Alpha Company found themselves nearly surrounding by enemy troops. They held their position for as long as they could before they, too, began to pull back towards the edge of the square.

Spyro was instantly on his radio, "_Hellfire_, this is Seraph! Are you there? Over?"

"Roger that, Seraph, what's going on, over?"

"Requesting air support on Times Square again, they're back with a vengeance."

"Pop some green smoke to mark your position and we'll clear 'em out, over."

"Roger that, Seraph out."

"There you go...now you're learning, _Hellfire _out."

Once he had finished his frantic call for help, Spyro, the last to remain in the position Alpha had been driven from, began to make a run back for cover by the rest of his comrades, screaming, "Pull back! Throw some green smoke! They're coming 'round again!"

Everything from here happened in slow motion for both the dragon and his unit. The crack of a sniper filled the air, and a bullet ripped through the dragon's skull, exiting through his cheek. He stumbled to the ground, somersaulting painfully to a stop, on his side.

"_SPYRO!_" Cynder screamed, leaping from cover and running over to him.

"Wait! Cynder! STOP!" Terrias hissed, but she didn't respond.

While Alpha Company and the other Terminator forces behind them supplied covering fire, driving the fast approaching _Maxian _soldiers into cover, Cynder quickly scooped her wounded mate onto her back, turning on a dime and sprinting back to where her allies remained in cover behind a destroyed T-90, coincidentally the same one that had fired upon them earlier and driven them off the street. "Cynder!" Terrias exclaimed, "Get him back down the street and call in evac, we'll keep these guys from reaching you."

She nodded vigorously, wasting no time in sprinting back the way they had come. Soon after she had disappeared around a corner, the AC-130 commenced its run, and after another minute of deafening, earth-shaking rocket barrages, left them, the area becoming enveloped in complete silence. When the smoke cleared, finding many of the surrounding skyscrapers leveled by the attack, a small fireteam chanced leaving cover in an attempt to draw out any enemy fire. When nothing attacked them, the scouting party nodded for the others to move up once again.

They regrouped in the center of the decimated square, and Elliot called them soon after, "All right, we've got a hit on Vaughn."

"Where is he?" Piermont asked.

"Looks like Jazz took him to Grand Central Station," the general responded, "Better hurry though, I can only think that he's trying to get away. Stop that fucking rabbit before he can escape!"

"Roger that," the dragon replied, turning to face the others, "All right, Terrias and I are gonna take a small team towards GCT, that's where Jazz is heading, who wants to come with?"

Silence from the rest of the group, "Fine then," and Piermont picked out a team of five, "The rest of you can stay here and make sure the _Maxia _or their buddies don't come back."

"What about the rest of us?" Cheet asked.

"Stay here," Piermont replied firmly, "Let's go," and he led them away from the square and to an adjacent, two-story building that managed to survive both air strikes. The human-form dragon kicked down the door, running inside. There was only one hall down here, and it had collapsed. Piermont led them upstairs instead, running down the hall up here until they reached where the floor had collapsed. He hopped down into the pit, peering outside the window towards the square. The destroyed husks of another column of T-90s had blocked the road heading towards GCT, and, just as he expected, there was another door at the end of the hall that opened out into the street beyond. He turned to face his team, "All right, I hope you guys know how to fight quick...it's only a matter of time before Jazz gets away..." and he turned around, nodding forward, "Let's go."


	51. Chapter L: Siege of New York, Pt II

_**Chapter L**_**:**

**-''The Siege of New York, Pt. II''-**

**-New York City, New York-**

**-**_**19 May 2012**_**-**

**-**_**2137 Hours**_**-**

Piermont's squad crouched inside of an alley, preparing for an ambush. A _Maxian _convoy carrying supplies was discovered to be on its way through the area, heading towards the command post at GCT. They had scanned the terminal, finding that there were far too many troops to take on as they were, and although it did seem that Jazz had Alex, it seemed that he wasn't trying to escape, that, in fact, the terminal was merely a command post, within which the Commander was being held prisoner. Until they could intercept the supply route and could arm themselves with something a little more powerful than what they currently had, to attack Grand Central Station would be suicide. Alex was as safe as he could really be right now, if Jazz discovered that Alpha Company knew of his location and were in the process of heading towards the terminal, the rabbit would surely kill the Commander before letting the unit have a chance to take him back. It was this reason that they had wasted precious time skirting the outskirts of the heavily fortified perimeter, setting up an ambush point a mile away down the street opposite from the direction heading to Times Square from the station.

"We have any idea where they are?" Terrias asked, currently setting up anti-tank mines in the middle of the street.

"Five minutes out, at the most," Piermont responded, helping the servine. The last of the mines finally down, they both sprinted back to the alley, mantling over a pile of debris and reclaiming their offensive positions, "Now, we wait," Piermont grimaced.

"They're coming!" the voice of one of the men Piermont had picked from the grunts back at the square, whispered over the radio. He was acting as the group's spotter, taking up a position against a third-story window in the building to their left, keeping an eye on the road. Soon after this announcement, they could hear the engines of the approaching convoy, and Piermont nodded towards the unit.

"Get ready," the dragon said, laying on his belly atop the pile of debris and peering through the scope of his AK47. Terrias had manned one of the two M240s the group had set up, and they had one sniper team with them as well, camping with the spotter. When the leading truck in the convoy finally appeared in their line of sight, it struck the planted mines, flipping it onto its side and spilling its cargo in the street. The other vehicles screeched to a halt and Piermont screamed, "_FIRE_!"

The crack of a sniper rifle accompanied a spray of blood across the side of the second vehicle from the driver. While his body slumped to the ground, the others in the ambush party opened fire, the M240s driving the _Maxian_ soldiers into cover. Within minutes, the entire convoy was dead, and after waiting another five minutes to ensure that it was clear, Piermont waved for them to advance.

The dragon tapped his earpiece, running into the street, "Cover our asses, we're moving up."

Piermont's squad scoured through the wreckage of the vehicles, outfitting themselves with fresh ammunition and stronger weapons, more helpful for dealing with the large crowd they would have to fight. They also found heavy suits of body armor, which they quickly put on. Now suited up and armed to the teeth, Piermont nodded towards them, "All right gents, let's go fuck up that little bastard rabbit!"

Piermont's squad approached the outskirts of Grand Central Terminal, spying _Maxian _Elites patrolling the perimeter. They walked towards the guards, asking them to produce identification papers. Before there was even a moment to respond, Piermont and Terrias both thrust their combat knives into the throats of the guards, gently lowering the bodies to the ground and dragging them towards a dumpster down the street, depositing the bodies within.

"Let's go," the human-form dragon growled, nodding forward. They returned to the terminal, slipping into the perimeter and approaching the distant building, well lit and looming ahead. They stealthily took down the surrounding guards in their advance, and upon finally reaching the door into the building, Piermont sighed, "All right...you boys ready?"before even giving them a chance to respond, he turned to face the building again, "For Alex..."

Taking a deep breath, he charged through the door, the rest of his squad in tow, and immediately opened fire on the _Maxian _soldiers. They scattered into cover, firing back towards Piermont's squad while they danced around the room, peppering the Elites with poisoned rounds. "Looks like Jazz is making his escape," Elliot said over the line, "Armored helicopter taking off from the roof of an adjacent building, may want to get your asses up there before he gets away."

"Terrias!" Piermont roared, "Get on it!"

"Roger," the servine replied, mantling over his cover and cutting down several Elites in his sprint towards the connecting door to the next building. Gunfire all around him, narrowly dodging the _Maxia _shooting towards him, Terrias charged through the door and into the next building, what appeared to be a restaurant. More Elites flooded into the building from outside, but the servine quickly shot them down, mantling over the counter and diving into cover. Loading a fresh clip into his M240, he poked his head out again, lobbing several grenades out and firing to drive them off before continuing his rabid sprint, busting through into the back room. He navigated through the storage room, ducking beneath the pursuing _Maxia_'s gunfire. He shot out the lights in the room, thrusting it into instant darkness before barging through another door, finding himself in a tall stairwell leading up. He ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, hoping to put some distance between him and his pursuers before they arrived.

Upon nearing the midway point, he was fired upon both from above and below, and he danced across the catwalk to avoid the shots, spraying fire in both directions in an attempt to drive the _Maxia_ back, at least temporarily. Finally, he reached the top of his ascent, firing another series of bursts down below him to drive them back once again. He raced forward, barging into the door with all of his weight, busting it off its hinges and continuing forward, loading a fresh clip into his M240. He barged through this second door to, finding himself on the roof of the building, Jazz's helicopter slowly rising off the helipad across the roof. He fired towards the machine, dismayed when the rounds merely ricocheted off of its armored hull. He sprinted across the roof, _Maxia _spilling outside behind him and firing towards him, upon reaching the edge, he close his eyes, readying himself for what he was about to do. The _Maxian _Elites firing around him, several rounds grazing his arms, he leaped off the edge, flying through the air for several seconds before narrowly managed to grab onto the skids, dangling over a fatal drop to the streets.

He cried out in alarm, looking down and feeling lightheaded at the sheer distance between him and the ground. Around him, the city burned on, skyscrapers in the distant burning brightly, spewing black smoke into the air. The chopper passed through one of these plumes, briefly choking him before punching through, and the servine, his grip slipping as a faint rain began to fall from the heavens, soaking the cold steel, pulled himself up and onto the skid, leaning against the helicopter and catching his breath before trying to decide what to do next. An idea coming to mind, he began to creep gently and carefully along the skid, heading towards the door to the cockpit. Upon reaching it, he threw open the door, shortly before the pilot abruptly kicked him in the chest, sending him falling back. He cried out, grabbing onto the skids once again and straining his arm. The sheer amount of pain, coupled with the shock of his close encounter, caused his vision to fade and gray, threatening to send him into unconsciousness.

Realizing that this was fatal, Terrias pulled himself back onto the skid, gasping for breath while blue sparks danced across his arm, healing the injury. He crouched lower, crawling carefully across before finally reaching the closed door once again. He pressed himself against the side of the machine, catching his breath and recovering his stamina in full before he swung back around, swiftly withdrawing his combat knife and punching through the window, digging the knife into the pilot's throat and slamming his head into the console repeatedly. Hands slippery with blood and rain, Terrias opened the door from the inside, tearing his knife free and throwing the pilot's corpse out, clambering inside. The copilot made a move to react, pulling a gun on him. Terrias caught his arm and the gun discharged into the console, deafening all occupants of the machine. Ears ringing with tinnitus, Terrias slit the copilot's throat in a swift slash, kicking the body out from the side door and taking control of the machine, its nose now smoking dangerously.

While Terrias attempted to control the chopper, its controls damaged by the gunshot, he was suddenly aware of a furry arm reaching around the chair and wrapping itself tightly around his neck. He choked for air, attempting to beat the strangling object off. Jazz poked his head around, snarling, "And just what do you think you're doing?"

Terrias managed to get one hand free and he forcefully jammed his fingers into the rabbit's eyes, causing the beast to scream and fall back. The force of the rabbit's response sent the servine's head slamming into the stick, busting into his mouth. The warm, coppery taste of blood struck his tongue, and Terrias forced himself to recover, desperately struggling to regain control over the gunship.

Back on the rooftop from which the gunship had taken off, Piermont and the rest of his squad finally arrived, looking around for any sight of the escape ship. In the distance, they could spy a smoking ball of fire, and Piermont telepathically called out to the servine, _Hold on, Snake! I'm on my way!_ The dragon quickly returned to his natural form, leaping into the sky and rocketing forward in an aileron roll, racing towards the damaged gunship.

"I can't control this thing!" Terrias exclaimed, "Shit! Shit, shit, _SHIT!_"

"YOU DIRTY CUNT!" Jazz roared, forcefully grabbing the servine by the throat again, forcing his way into the cockpit. Blood drained from his now maroon-colored eyes, and the rabbit beat the creature relentlessly, all the while Terrias juggled both fending off the rabbit and trying to guide the gunship to safety.

Terrias moved to pull his combat knife from his waist, stabbing forward. Jazz caught his arm, twisting it around and forcing the servine to drop the weapon. The rabbit soon picked it up, jamming it to the hilt in Terrias' right breast. The wind knocked out of him by the searing pain of the penetrating blade, Terrias struggled to recover before Jazz, who had pulled another blade from his _own _waist could drive the knife into his throat. The servine snapped forward, digging his fangs into the rabbit's arm and tearing at the muscle and flesh. A mixture of fur, blood, and skin flooded into Terrias' mouth, and Jazz's paw loosened, dropping the blade which bounced off the floor and out into the New York skyline. He grabbed the rabbit by the beck of the head, slamming it into the windshield and console until he was unconscious.

Following this, Terrias returned his attention to the gunship, attempting to improve the machine's altitude, now diminishing at a dangerously fast pace. The console exploded in the servine's face, showering him with scalding hot, razor-sharp debris, temporarily blinding him and also deafening him once again. Seeing through a haze of cloudy red, Terrias roared as he, realizing that there was no way the helicopter could safely land, steered it towards the roof of the Empire State Building, hoping he could strike his mark. The machine hit its target, the force of impact sending Terrias flying through the windshield and across the surface of the 86th floor observation deck, quickly knocking him out.

Alex groaned, his eyes slowly opening. He was in a daze, finding himself on the roof of some building, with a towering fence around it, badly damaged and in some places, busted down. Across from him, an armored helicopter was balancing precariously on the ledge over the abyss, engulfed in flames, the bent and crooked blades above it spinning slowly in the wind. He slowly stood, falling back down soon after with a gasp. Blood dripped from his burning face onto the floor, and his hands and arms were badly cut up from the crash, suffering from road burns from where he had slid. He heard the sound of a heavy steel plate being thrown down, and he abruptly looked up to spy Jazz emerging from the inside of the burning helicopter, nothing more than a silhouette against the bright and nearly blinding flames. The rabbit stopped about halfway between the mangled machine and the weakened Commander, kneeling down to pick up a long-barreled revolver before continuing his slow, unsteady approach. Preparing to shoot, Alex heard a deafening roar from above, and he looked up to see Piermont's mighty form flying above the observation deck, opening his great maw to flame the entire expanse.

Jazz's attention temporarily diverted, Alex looked to where Terrias' body lay in a crumpled heap on the far left side of the deck, before his eyes moved to where an assault shotgun lay ahead, spilled from the crash. The Commander crawled towards the weapon, while Jazz, having exchanged his revolver for an assault rifle, fired relentlessly towards the circling dragon. After one more pass, Piermont stopped in mid-hover above the rabbit, folding his wings and falling towards the deck, transforming while he fell. He landed smoothly on the deck, in his human form, and ran towards Jazz charging into the rabbit and knocking him to the ground, beating him. Upon falling, Jazz slid slightly across the floor, ramming into the shotgun and sending it sliding further across the roof, through the broken fence and leaving it sitting on the ledge over the fatal fall below.

As Alex began to crawl towards the shotgun again, Jazz kicked Piermon in the chest, stumbling the human-form dragon and sending him falling back. The rabbit was soon on his feet again, pulling out his revolver and firing three shots, all striking his chest and sending him plummeting to the floor. Jazz was soon upon Alex again, kicking him in the side and forcing the Commander to roll on his back, staring up at the rabbit now standing over him, holding the gun to his head.

"And this is where we say goodbye..." Jazz hissed, wearing a mad grin. Alex responded quickly, kicking the rabbit in the crotch and causing him to fall back. The Commander picked himself up, running towards the rabbit and leaping into his chest, knocking them both to the floor. Alex threw several hard punches at the rabbit's head, reaching to grab onto a downed power line and wrapping it around the rabbit's throat, smacking his head repeatedly against the floor while he attempted to strangle him. Just as Jazz began to succumb to euphoria from lack of air, he grabbed his revolver, placing the barrel firmly against Alex's sternum and pulling the trigger. The bullet ripped through the Commander's heart, exiting out his back in a cloud of red. Downed again, Jazz stood once more, untangling the wires from his neck and tearing free one of Alex's swords, impaling him through the stomach, pinning him to the roof. "You pathetic insect!" Jazz taunted, spitting onto Alex's body, "You think you can stop _me? _I am more powerful, much stronger than you ever were and could ever _hope _to be!" he turned around, walking towards the wreckage of the helicopter and standing on the ledge, overlooking the burning city, "During my tenure under Deitus' observation in the Devil's Arena, I was given immense, unbelievable power! My mutations are far more advanced than yours will ever be in your lifetime! I am all but unstoppable!" he pulled out his revolver, reloading, "There's a reason why I'm not using poisoned rounds...I fully intend to make you suffer, much like you did for me!"

While Jazz went on his spiel, Alex had gently torn the blade free from his chest, quietly picking himself and beginning to stumble towards the rabbit, who's back was still to the Commander.

"Give my regards to Deitus, insect!" but just as Jazz turned to face Alex again, the Commander leaped forward, barreling into Jazz's chest and sending them both over the edge of the skyscraper. Meanwhile, Terrias had returned to consciousness, his wounds healing as he turned to watch his friend throw both himself and his opponent over the edge.

"_ALEX!_" Terrias exclaimed, running over to where Alex had fallen. Below, the two were exchanging blows as the plummeted through the air, both trying to gain dominance and control over the rapid descent. "_FUCK!_" the servine hissed, rotating on his heels and running towards the door heading back inside the building.

"You...won't...win!" Jazz snarled, currently on top, punching Alex relentlessly, driving him further towards the ground.

Alex, with several swift kicks, managed to grab onto the rabbit, spinning them around until he was on top. Beneath, the ground grew ever closer at an alarming pace, and the Commander could only brace himself for the imminent impact, squeezing his eyes shut as they finally hit the ground...

The young man groaned...opening his eyes...

Jazz picked himself up, brushing the dust from his fur and cloak as he healed his wounds. Alex, still recovering from his plummet from the Empire State Building, was paralyzed as he saw through a gray haze.

Jazz now stood tall, revealing his M1A911 pistol as he charged at his former CO.

"Alex!" Came a distant cry, and Terrias pounced on Jazz as the gun hit the ground. The two viciously fought hand to hand before Terrias gained the upper hand, with a loud crack, Terrias punched Jazz's cheek, and the rabbit hit the ground. The servine revealed his own P2K and fired three shots into the downed _Maxian_ leader as he ran to his friend's side.

Distantly, Alex could hear Terrias say in a panic-edged voice, "Commander! Commander! Are you alright? Shit! Medic!"

Suddenly, from behind Terrias' shoulder, Alex watched Jazz stand, and he grabbed the servine's shoulder, throwing him backwards as the rabbit fired two shots, one into each of Terrias' legs.

He collapsed forward, and Jazz approached before recoiling as he grabbed his arm and blood sprayed with each shot. Alpha Company surrounded the traitor, but the _Maxia_ then surrounded Alpha Company. In a thousand flashes of gunfire, Alex's brothers-in-arms fell to the ground, and Jazz stood, walking to his troops and ordering, "Take care of the bodies!"

He then smiled maliciously at Alex and stomped on the wounded Commander's face, to which, he instantly blacked out.

* * * * *

Slowly, ever so slowly, Alex stirred. He was in pain, every inch of his body burned and throbbed with a hellish heat. He was aware of being dragged, and he lapsed in-and-out of consciousness.

A sudden impact as his back slammed against New York Harbor's k-rail completely roused him, but he still saw through a haze of orange-speckled red, and he still could not move.

He managed to gain control of his head, and turned his gaze from the blood-smeared, crater-laden street, and to the left, where Terrias was forced to stand, facing the water. He was bound by heavy cinderblocks, tied to his wrists and ankles by thick rope.

Jazz stood behind him, bringing his pistol up against the back of the servine's neck, and pulling the trigger.

"NOOO!" Alex called, his voice too hoarse to be heard, and Terrias' head shot back in a spray of blood, bone, and flesh. Everything occurred in slow motion as the servine fell forward into the water, disappearing as the stones weighed him down.

Alex suddenly felt a strong grip on his collar, and he was forced to stand as Jazz picked him up, smiling maliciously and sadistically and saying, "I'm gonna have fun with you."

He was forced to stand, his back to the water, and Jazz nodded his head at the _Maxia_ Spec Ops officers, whose laser-sighted, scope-mounted Deutsche M9Ks were trained on the Commander. Four soldiers stepped forward, beginning to bind the weights to Alex's wrists and ankles.

Alex clenched his right hand in a fist, punching the soldier who was binding his left wrist into unconsciousness. He heard a whoosh sound, and instant pain and heat flared as his head was forcefully sent to the right, someone had whipped his cheek with the butt of one of the SMGs.

He was bound and tied, and each of the soldiers nodded as they stepped back. Jazz stepped forward, bringing the pistol up and cocking it as he aimed at Alex's head.

"I've wanted to do this for a long, long time..." the rabbit said, "Goodbye, Commander," and he pulled the trigger.

A deafening crack of gunfire, and Alex saw spots of red as his head shot back and he fell backwards into the water. Instant warmth filled him, despite the freezing water, and he watched bubbles rise to the surface as he flipped over. Jazz stood where Alex had fallen, staring into the water. His form, and the rest of his officers, were silhouettes to the Commander's sight, standing against the burning skies from the fallen city.

Alex stared through growing tendrils of red as he sank deeper and deeper, and everything continued in slow motion as Jazz and the rest of the _Maxia_ turned and walked away. As he sank deeper, one memory crossed his mind...the fountain...and Spyro...

_No... _he thought, _It can't be over..._

**-END-**


End file.
